


Into The Fire

by Bolt41319



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2020-03-26 06:23:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 42,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19000141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bolt41319/pseuds/Bolt41319
Summary: After waking one year ago in a hospital bed covered in burn wounds, Regina Mills was learning to accept the new fate that life had brought her, until one night a handsome stranger at a bar kept staring at her.Originally written for OQ Prompt Party#4, #83, #89, #170, #71, #75, #173Chapter 13 Written for Day 1 of Inspired by OQ, based on the adorable drawing by ankareeda!





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 4: Regina has scars from surviving a fire and thinks nobody can love her, Robin proves her wrong.

She's gotten used to it in the past year, the staring, the hushed whispers that follow her as she walks the street. People always gawked, children ducked their heads shyly into their parents’ legs as she passed. It was something that she had to accept if she ever wanted to move on, if she wanted to live her life in the most normal way possible. 

It's not something Regina had ever expected to have to deal with though. Quite frankly, as her office building engulfed in flames, she thought that it would be the moment she would die. Only 26, working as a secretary in a newspaper office, having barely enjoyed a life worth a damn. 

Their office building was not typical, it sat above a row of apartments where one day, two people whom she didn't know, and now will never know, decided to make meth, and their kitchen had exploded. She'd heard of people doing it before, the explosions and all that flashing up on the news as her town’s drug epidemic took a turn and expanded more than anyone had realized. But she never expected the quiet couple one floor beneath them to take part in it as well, not until the building exploded and the flames shot up, burning at the floor beneath her feet. 

She tried desperately to escape, to find a staircase to make her way down and away from the fire, but the flames worked their way up as she tried to make her way down, and she was trapped. The smoke had filled her lungs, and the last thing she recalls from that dreadful day was a desperate attempt at texting her family, to tell her parents how much she loved them, how she hopes that she made them proud. 

When she woke three days later in the hospital, everything hurt. Only forty percent of her body was burned, which surprised her. She’d assumed that from the massive flames she saw from her window as she looked down when the building had rumbled that her wounds would have been much worse. The majority of her wounds took place on the right half of her face and her upper torso, working their way down her right arm and spreading as well onto her hip. 

The firefighters that found her had reported that she had fallen toward the burning door when she passed out from the smoke inhalation, and when she was found, the flames creeping beneath the door jamb were flush against her body. 

She was hospitalized for three months after that, in and out of doctors appointments and meetings with plastic surgeons and neurologists who worked together to try and make her life as normal as possible. 

Her family had been there through each step in her rehabilitation, as the bandages were finally peeled off and she was finally released to go home.

It had been exactly one year ago that she was wheeled out of the hospital and taken back to her apartment to… sit. 

That's all she did, for a month at least. Just sat, the anger and hatred at herself and those who had taken so much from her coursing through her veins, coming out in childish outbursts that still embarrass her to this day. She was depressed and knew so, let the dark anger and grief take over her every thought and care and weave themselves into each little aspect of her life. Mal was the person to pull her out of it, her best friend ultimately refusing to let her live her life wallowing. She had shown up and dragged her out of the house, dropped her off with a therapist and sat in the lobby to ensure that she stayed. 

Though the firefighters and doctors had saved her life, Mal had saved her soul. 

It took a while to be comfortable going out, to get used to the stares and whispers, to be comfortable in her own skin. Mal had helped with that, her subconsciously frightening demeanor scaring people off faster than Regina could when she turned and looked directly at people, to where they could see the rough scars that covered her face and neck. She had taken to comparing herself to the  _ ‘Phantom of the Opera’,  _ half joked with Mal that maybe she would be better off donning a white mask and a black cape, but Mal had insisted that she was gorgeous and anyone who thought otherwise could fuck off. 

It was how they found themselves at the Rabbit Hole every Friday, at Mal’s insistence that, “The only way anyone's going to be comfortable is if you don't give them the opportunity to be uncomfortable.” Going out quickly became her favorite part of the week because of how  _ normal  _ it was. Over time they stopped staring, the regulars at the dingy hole-in-the-wall treating her more like family and less like a freak each time she entered their bar. 

The owner, and elderly woman called Granny, was a spitfire, blatantly refusing to serve people if they made comments about Regina's features. She and her granddaughter Ruby quickly joined Mal as Regina’s fiercest protectors, and when a strange, handsome man made his way into the bar one night, they were quick to surround her and draw her into a conversation, their quick tactic to tamp down her anxiety when there was a stranger in the bar. 

He intrigued her though, the way he silently walked into the bar, hood drawn up over his head. He took the seat opposite hers at the bar, mumbled a quiet  _ ‘whiskey neat’ _ to Ruby, and kept his head down, sipping his drink every few minutes. It took about two drinks before he even looked up, and his eyes fell upon hers. 

Only her eyes, though. Not her face, nor the angry scars on her neck or the ones that show out on her arm, not bothering to be covered by the tank top she wore. He looked directly into her eyes, and the ghost of a smile came over his lips 

That… hadn't ever happened before. 

He gave her a single nod when she looked back at him, the look on her face obviously a bit more stunned than she would ever care to admit, and then turned his attention back to his drink and left it at that. 

Mal had been talking the entire time, filling Regina in on the drama at her new job as a writer for the new town newspaper, but Regina had only been half listening, set on watching the man across the bar swirl his straw in tight little circles, the amber liquid creating little whirlpools that slowly evened back out. 

He didn't look back up at her for a while, and she fell into Mal’s conversation, chiming in on Mary Margaret’s and David’s not so secret affair in the office, and how it was ultimately affecting everyone at work. Regina had met Mal when she got hired at Storybrooke’s newspaper as their new secretary, while Mal was the novice writer in the group. Mal had been on an assignment when the office exploded, as had most of their team, which left Regina as one of the few people left in their office during the explosion. She'd been slow to return to work after her accident, only going back a few months ago. 

When Mal slips off to the bathroom she looks over again, finds the man now staring more intently at her, his eyes finally trailing over her upper torso and down her arm that rests on the bar. He doesn't make faces like she normally gets, the fear or disgust that people have a hard time displacing. He's looking at her like he's intrigued, and for the first time since she concluded that she was going to be alone forever, she feels her stomach do a little somersault. 

He's up then, padding his way across the bar with his drink in hand. 

“You know,” he starts, settling down on the seat opposite where Mal had just been, “I'm quite sure that your friend will stab me with her knife if she sees me over here talking with you.” 

Regina laughs at that, shifting her head down, hiding her face a bit from him. “Her bark is worse than her bite, I swear. She's just… protective, that's all. She doesn't do well with new people, as I don't either, so when there's someone here that we don't recognize it usually sits uneasy.” 

“As it should. Two beautiful women in a bar is always an opening for one of those sleazy guys to worm his way between them and ultimately hurt one of them.” 

“Is that what you're doing?” She inquires, her head still dropped own, eyes focused intensely on the martini in front of her. 

The man scoffs, shaking his head as he tells her  _ no. _ “If I were the sleazy guy in the bar trying to pick up a girl, I'd have been over here hours ago. Hell, I'd have been out way earlier than 11:30 trying to strike up a conversation.”

She laughs at him, fiddling with the straw between her fingertips. “You know, the more that you talk, the more you're digging yourself into a hole that I'm not sure your talk will get you out of.” 

“I'm a bit rubbish at making conversation. It's why drinking alone is so easy, and up until now was also much preferred.”

“Until now?” 

“Well you're over here, and quite frankly you seem much more interesting than this whiskey is.” 

It's her turn to scoff, letting out a low chuckle. “Yeah right. Trust me when I say that between the two of us, Mal is much more interesting. When she gets back I'm sure she'd be quick to tell you off for a moment and then drag you out of here and have her way with you.” 

“Is that so?” He asks before flagging down Ruby and ordering another round for the three of them. Ruby looks to Regina for permission, and when Regina nods she walks back and starts mixing drinks. “See, from the looks of it from over there, I'd much rather get to know you.” 

“You sure you didn't come in with friends? Someone put you up to this? Who can make conversation with the girl with the facial deformities at the bar without running away in disgust in the first thirty seconds?” 

“No, god no,” he stammers, and she immediately feels bad for her little outburst. “Have people done that to you before? Christ I'm so sorry, that was not at all my intention, I swear.” 

Regina sucks in a breath and turns to look at him, her hair falling back with the turn of her head to reveal her face fully to him. “I—you're not kidding. You really did want to talk to me.” 

It wasn't something that happened often, or ever really. The assholes at the bar were quick to make her feel bad, to make enough faces or say something under their breath enough times that she felt a bit uneasy whenever there was someone who went out of their way to strike up a conversation with her. She tried desperately to not let it get to her, and with time the sting hurt a little less, but she had long ago accepted that this was it for her. She was thankful for her friends, for Mal, Granny, and Ruby, who consistently went out of their way to make her feel loved, and she had resonated with that being it for her. 

There was no possibility that anyone else could ever love her, not with how… frightening she felt she looked. 

The stranger shifts in his seat, turns to face her directly, stretching out his hand to shake hers. “Hi there, I'm Robin Locksley, and I'd very much like to genuinely learn everything about you.” 

Regina hesitates, glances down at his open palm, and her eyes shift for a quick moment to her own hand. She tentatively reaches out, and when her scarred skin presses to his, he doesn't even flinch. “I'm Regina Mills, and I think I'd be alright with that.” 

When Mal comes back a few minutes later complaining of a stomach ache, they're still facing one another, and he has her wrapped up in a conversation about the most recent immigration epidemic that has her thrilled. He's matching her pace as they get into a deep debate about the different stances of the immigration reform. She can feel Mal watching them both, head turning back and forth between the two before the conversation reaches a comfortable pause and she jumps in. 

“I think I'm about to head out. You?” 

Regina hesitates for a moment, looking back toward Robin who flashes a smile and shrugs his shoulders. “I— I think I'm going to stay here. You good to walk back by yourself?” 

“Yeah, as long as you're good staying here.” Mal, not subtle at all, side-eyes Robin and gives Regina that pointed look, one they'd given each other before her accident when a guy would slip up to one of them at a bar, all handsome and charming. 

“Promise. Text me when you're in safe.” 

Mal promises and heads out of the bar, and she turns her attention back to Robin, falling quickly back into their conversation. 

She learns all about him, how he came to America from England for college and decided he never wanted to leave. He tells her all about his career in environmental science that ultimately brought him to Storybrooke on an assignment to test water levels in the soil in their forest. She finds him so interesting and takes joy in the fact that through their discussions, he's not once asked her about the scars that marr her body. 

She tells him about her job as a secretary, how her real passion is photography and writing, and how she hopes to take over for the newspaper’s photographer Marco when he ultimately retires. Robin's truly listening to her, matching her every quip with something equally as intelligent and funny, and it makes her incredibly grateful. 

Granny comes up to them hours later, sliding up to them at the bar, clasping her hands together and smiling at them. “It's closing time kids.” 

“It can't be,” Regina gasps, glaring around at the long empty bar. Ruby is stacking chairs and wiping down tables, and Granny already has the till counted and packed up in her money bag that rests on the counter. “Oh Granny, I’m so sorry. You should have told us sooner, we would have gone.” 

“Nonsense dear, it’s not like you’re a stranger. And besides, you two were so deep in whatever you were talking about, I don’t think you’d have been able to stop anyhow.” 

She can feel the heat rising in her cheeks and ducks her head as Robin laughs. “Well please let me settle the tab up, mine and hers, and we’ll get out of your hair.” 

“You’re all settled up for the night,” Granny’s gives back, patting the bag. “Mal called and took care of it. Will we be seeing more of you around?” She asks him.

He glances over once at her, smiling before turning back to Granny. “I sure hope so.” 

She watches him stand after that, not shy to the tone of his comment, the insinuation behind his words that have her equally nervous and excited. They thank Granny and Ruby, apologizing profusely a few more times as they make their way outside. They fall back into a comfortable silence, fumbling a small bit before he looks up at her. 

“May I walk you home?”

“Trying to find out where I live?” 

He shakes his head, tucking one hand into his pocket, the other reaching out as an invitation to take hers. “No, not quite. Though it may be valuable information, since I’d like to see you again, and it would be rather difficult to pick you up without an address.”

“You’re different, you know that?” She asks, her uninjured hand coming out to slip into his. She tugs once, falling into pace with him as they walk toward her house. “The night’s barely over and you’re already asking for a date.” 

He squeezes her hand, his head turning toward hers. “That may be so, but you’re the one who called it a date, not me.” He grins, a cheeky smile that has her stopping them both, his attention turning back on her. 

She looks down at their linked hands and panics for a moment. “Look, Robin, you’re incredibly sweet. But there’s a lot to this,” she sighs, dropping his hand and waving hers over herself, “that I wouldn’t expect anyone to want to get involved in. I’m not in the best shape, mentally  _ or  _ physically, though the latter is pretty obvious, and while I know my mental state will get better soon enough, unfortunately, the scars aren’t going anywhere. I’m stuck with them, unless some medical miracle surgery comes out to replace burned scar tissue.” 

He nods along with what she says, listening carefully before responding, “I know I haven’t known you very long at all, but even now I can tell you I don’t mind. The mental, and especially the physical. And besides, we’re all a little messed up in the head in one way or another, and in my opinion it takes a lot more to accept it and admit it than it does to brush it off and act like it never happened. I’m not saying that you have to, but I think you should just give me a shot. Let me take you out for lunch tomorrow.” 

“I—” she starts, finally nodding her head. “I can try lunch. But I have a spot in mind. Granny owns the diner in town too, and while I know she seems a little frightening at first she’s actually great, and she makes a killer burger.” 

His smile spreads and it’s stunning, and she’s a little jealous at how gorgeous he is, grinning at her like he’s just been told the best thing he’s heard. “That sounds perfect.” 

They fall back into step, making their way up the street and around the corner while hashing out the details for the next day, when she stops him again in front of her building, nodding up. “This is my stop.” 

He bids her a goodnight with a promise to come by the following afternoon, and before he leaves he leans in and presses a soft kiss to the tight skin of her scarred cheek. Robin turns and walks away and she’s stuck there for a moment, stunned at the turn of events that she never quite expected to happen. 

Her feet carry her upstairs on their own accord, into her apartment and she falls back onto the couch, setting against the cushions. She pulls her phone out and is met with at least twenty texts from Mal, starting with  _ ‘Who the hell is that guy?’  _ and ending with  _ ‘Look, I made it home but you better call me when you get back, regardless of how late it is. I need details, and to know that you haven’t been kidnapped by some crazy person.’  _

Regina laughs, pulls up Mal’s phone number and presses the phone to her ear. 

Mal answers on the first ring with a shrill, “What are you doing and who was that?” 

“That was…” she trails off, not quite knowing exactly what to say. “I’m not sure, really. He came over when you were at the bathroom and struck up a conversation and—I don’t know how to explain it. He didn’t look at my face, at all. But like, not in a bad way. It was like he saw past the scars. He kept making eye contact, which no one has ever actually gone out of their way to do, besides family of course. And he was so sweet, and  _ hot, _ like—damn Mal, he was pretty.” 

She goes on and on about Robin for a few minutes, explaining how kind he was and how easy he was to talk to and how smart he was. Before she realizes it, it’s well past 2:45 in the morning and she’s yawning between her words. “Sorry, I just… He seems different, Mal. And while I love spending time with you, I feel like I need something else. And who am I to deny a hot man that’s actually going out of his way to talk to me?” 

“You’re not skeptical at all?” Mal asks, matching Regina’s yawn with her own. 

“I am a little bit. But I’ve already been hurt enough times that at this point, it’s not phasing me as much as it should. Who knows how life will turn out? If you had told me two years ago that I would get trapped in a building burnt down by a meth-head and be lucky enough to survive but be covered in scars, I would have said you were crazy. Besides, you’re always telling me that I should branch out. Without you I would still be locked up in this apartment, wallowing away in self pity and cheap wine. I’m alive, and I need to start acting like it. Even if it does terrify me to my core.” 

Mal sighs, and Regina can hear her settling down into her bed, the rustle of her sheets before the sound dissipates. “Look darling, I’ll support you regardless. But, I want you to be careful, okay?” 

“I will Mal, I promise. Besides, I’m disgusting looking, and I know that. He’s only seen me in a dimly lit bar and under the moonlight, not yet at Granny’s in the middle of a sunny afternoon. There’s a good chance he’ll get out of dodge before he has to deal with the repercussions of being anywhere near me anyhow. And if he does run, then it just confirms what I’ve always believed would happen. No one’s going to want to be with me, or look past all of my scars for long enough to fall in love with me. It’s about time that I accepted that, and this will be my moment of truth.” 

“Regina,” Mal sighs. “Honey, I know how you feel about yourself, but you're lovely, I promise. You may have scars but that’s done nothing to change how beautiful you are, inside  _ and _ out. You’re only going to be happy when you see that about yourself too.” 

“I’ll work on it,” Regina concedes. “I’m going to get some sleep and figure out what to do with my hair tomorrow to hide things a bit better. I’ll call you after and let you know how it goes, okay? Maybe if it ends like shit we can get a bottle of wine and watch rom-coms after you finish your article.” 

They make plans for later tomorrow and when Mal drops the call, Regina pads across her apartment and falls into her bed, making the minimum effort to shed her clothes off and climb under the blankets. 

She wakes the next morning with uneasiness in her stomach. She stays curled up in her bed until almost 10, aimlessly flipping through the book at her bedside table. She’s not really reading it, just using it as an excuse to stay in bed, maybe push off the date her previously buzzed self decided would be a great idea. 

Robin does seem sweet though, and his intelligence is  _ so  _ attractive, not to mention his face and arms giving her something to gawk at the night before. It baffles her as to why someone like him would go out of their way to talk to her, and she feels like she owes it to him to at least have lunch. Maybe it is all for pity. Usually people feel sorry for her, go out of their way to patronize her like some child because of how she looks. 

They had been successful replacing the scar tissue around her eye, so that looks relatively normal, but as the flames had whisked under the door when she fainted, they brushed around her arm and down to her hip. The worst of the scar started at her cheekbone and weaved it’s way down and across her skin. The area of her neck and collarbone were scarred, still tender to the touch though it was fading over time. Her shoulder and upper arm were the worst from how she’d fallen, her skin flush against the bottom edge of the floor. Those scars were angry, as she’s taken to describing them. They were a bit swollen normally and made her skin tight, pulled at her shoulder when she would shift. Her burn stretched down onto her hands and to her fingertips, finally dissipating at her hip where her hand had rested. It wasn’t pretty, and never would be. 

When she was still wrapped in bandages and freshly out of the hospital, her scars ached. She hated them at first, still kind of does, but the stomach-lurching dread that she felt the first time she saw them doesn’t phase her as much anymore. Her skin looks worn now, and a bit rough, but over time she’s learned to not hate herself. 

She climbs out of the bed and makes her way into the bathroom, flicking the lights on to stare at herself in the mirror. Her hair is mussed to one side and she draws it back into a hair tie, getting a good look at her face in the mirror. There’s that small feeling in the pit of her stomach, the one that ones this so desperately to go well, but she shakes her head and brushes it off. After getting showered and drying her hair, she finds herself in front of her closet staring at all her clothes, contemplating what to wear. It’s summer, and the heat in Storybrooke has been rising exponentially each day. She’s got a few sundresses and craves to wear one, to just let the marred skin on her arm show through, but the sense of worry fills her. 

She thinks she may actually like this guy. He’s refreshing and new, and as she pulls the tight sundress out of her closet she decides that if he can’t handle the scars on her arm or those on her neck during their first lunch together, then there’s no way he’s going to be able to handle her at all. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for Wednesday of OQ Prompt Party 
> 
> Prompt #83: Accidental Kiss

He finds her absolutely breathtaking. Everything about her, even through his slightly-hazy whiskey filled brain, is incredible. Her strength is the first thing that stood out to him about her, the way she held herself at the bar. She radiated poise and composure, and when she laughed she threw her head back and he noticed the scars that trailed down her neck and disappeared under her top. He wants to know everything about her, wants to be a part of the inner circle that he can tell practically adores her. 

The next morning he woke early, got changed and made his way out to the woods to pull his samples and replace the tubes with new ones. When he had been transferred from Mist Haven to Storybrooke, his boss had reminded him that it may be temporary, but he found himself hoping that it wasn’t. He was one of the newer environmentalists at his job at the University of Maine, and he had learned that his boss was quick to move new people around until they found the right fit. The city of Mist Haven, where he had started, been an interesting place to live, but was filled with more bustle than he enjoyed. He was an easy man, enjoyed the quiet of the forest and the simplicity of a smaller town. When he’d arrived in Storybrooke a month before, he found himself much happier in that short amount of time than he was during his entire stay in Mist Haven. 

He had just broken things off with his girlfriend Marian when he got the job that forced him to pack up and move. She was sweet, and truly beautiful, but there was something about her that didn’t sit right in his heart. She meant well, he’s positive of it, but she had issues with him working late, finding out a new idea at the lab that kept him there for a few extra hours some evenings… It’s not something that he ever wanted to be privy too, the unearned suspicion of someone whom he truly cared about. 

When he told her about the possible transfer she hadn’t responded well, and he ended it there. If she couldn’t even pretend to be happy for him getting a promotion, then it could never work. 

His first week he spent mostly alone, ordering takeout from various restaurants and acclimating himself to his apartment, but he’d gotten bored quickly. It was how he found himself at The Rabbit Hole bar one night, set up back in a booth in the corner with his work spread out in front of him. 

It was also the first time he noticed  _ her _ . 

She was with her friend, the one that he now knows as Mal, and her laugh drew his attention to her and away from his work immediately. 

Her hair was set up to hide her face at first, and she’d done a good job of it until she turned, and the hair caught on itself and the light hit her just right, and that was when all the air escaped him. She was breathtakingly gorgeous, even with the scars he could see on her cheek that clearly worked its way down. There was something that made him want to get up right then and there, walk over and ask her to dance, but he knew he shouldn’t. She looked upset, and a little shaken, and by the concern on her friends face he could tell it wasn’t the right time. 

So he decided to make his trip to the bar a bi-weekly occurrence, just to hope that he would see her again. He didn’t see her again but he could hear the whispers about her from other, albeit also drunker patrons, about the  _ ‘bitch with the scars’, _ and it made him want to know her more and more. 

It’s the feeling that fueled his nerves now, standing outside of the building he’d dropped her off at the night before. What if she was just playing along with him, and didn’t actually want to go? There was nothing he’d hate more than to make her uncomfortable, or make her think he’s like those other guys at the bar. 

He buzzes into the lobby and looks at the list of names. He finds her name, an eloquently written  _ R. Mills _ listed next to apartment number 4, and he makes his way up the steps. 

Robin lifts a hand and raps his knuckles against the door a few times, stepping back and shoving his hands into his pockets. He hears the door unlocking, the sound of a deadbolt being slid back, and when the door opens and his eyes fall upon her, he sucks in a breath. 

She’s stunning. 

Her hair is wrapped up into this side bun, bangs fallen across the scarred side of her face. She’s wearing this deep purple dress with light blue waves across the bottom, and it wraps divinely around her waist, flaring out at her hips and falling at her knees. 

“Hey,” she lets out, a bright smile spreading across her face. “You ready to get going?” 

She turns to grab something before he can get another word in and his eyes travel down her backside, to the delicious curve of her hip and ass as the fabric of her dress falls against her. “I— um, yeah,” he stammers. “You look bloody brilliant, if you don’t mind me saying.” 

She looks over her shoulder and flashes another smile. “You don’t look too shabby yourself,” she smirks. “How’s that hangover treating you?” 

“Surprisingly better than I thought it would be,” he laughs, stepping back as she walks out of her apartment and closes the door. “Did you feel okay?” 

“Better than expected. I think my drinking tolerance is built up a bit though, which… may not be the greatest thing to start out with on a date.” 

“Nonsense,” he laughs, his hand coming up to graze her back, barely touching her as he guides her out the door. “You said you wanted to go to the diner? I think I’ve gotten takeaway from there before.”

They walk out to the sidewalk and fall into step together, her uninjured hand brushing against his as they walk. He wants to reach out and tangle his fingers with hers, press his palm to her warm skin, but he knows he shouldn’t. The small bit she held his hand last night was enough to make his heart swell, and while he wants to do it again he knows that it will startle her away, make her uncomfortable, and he never wants to do that. 

“Granny is the best, as a person and as a cook. I’ll have to properly introduce you to her when we go in, especially if you’re going to be in town for a while. She’s a great person to know, and an even better person to have on your good side. When I had my accident, she went out of her way to make me feel comfortable and welcomed back into the community. She still does. I think… no, I know that’s why she was a bit standoffish to you yesterday. They don’t take kindly to people being around me, especially people that are new to town. I’ve seen you before though, haven’t I?” 

He nods with a  _ ‘yeah’ _ and they come up on Granny’s Diner. He gets the door for her and watches as she waves at Granny before sliding into a booth. “I’ve been in town for almost a month now and I’ve noticed you. Sometimes out walking around, and a few times at the bar. I’ve wanted to talk with you, to get to know you a bit more, but I was nervous,” he admits with a laugh. 

“You were nervous? To talk to me?” she asks, gawking at him. “I know I’m a bit frightening looking but I’m not evil. I did have a teenager refer to me as Quasimodo once though. That stung a bit more than I thought it would.” 

“No, no not like that,” he rushes out. “I’ve heard you talking before, with your friend from last night, and you are… There’s not quite a way to describe you, but frightening and evil aren’t at all what I had in mind. They’re the furthest thing from my mind, actually.” 

She’s blushing and starts to say something back when a server comes up and takes their order. After the young girl walks back toward the counter, Regina takes a sip of the iced tea in front of her and looks back up at him. “I’m not the easiest person to get along with, honestly. It wasn’t my strong suit, even before all of this happened.” 

He wants to know everything, wants to ask her what happened, why her skin is the way that it is, but before he can get the words out she’s smiling up at him and letting out this little laugh that he wants to hear for the rest of his life. 

“You can ask, you know. It doesn’t hurt me to talk about it.” 

“I didn’t want to be rude,” he says, ducking his head. “But from the way you’ve spoken, it seems like this is all relatively new? You weren’t born with them?” 

“No, definitely not born with them,” she starts, and then launches into the story of the fire that took over and changed her life. He feels for her, because of both the terrible tragedy she had to go through and the aftermath. Her story continues as they’re brought their food, and when she tries to apologize to him for taking over the conversation he insists that there’s nowhere he would rather be right now. 

The moan that she lets out when she bites into her burger has him choking on his own food, and the look that she gives him tells him she absolutely knows what she’s doing, the minx. 

“So,” she continues, laughing at what he assumes is the look on his face when she dips a fry into her barbecue sauce and twirls it delicately between her fingers, “You should tell me more about you. I know you’re an environmentalist but, why Storybrooke?” 

He grins and goes into detail on his work, the research that he’s hoping to take over within the next few years. She’s actually listening to him, chiming in when he gets into an absolutely nerdy description of the in-depth details of his job, those that Marian never bothered to listen to, let alone contribute to the discussion. She’s quick to fire questions back at him though, asking about pH levels and foliage differences between here and Mist Haven and he absolutely adores her. 

She finishes off her burger and settles back in the booth, taking her napkin from her lap and placing it onto the table beside her plate. “You know, I’ve always been afraid to go out with someone. I guess when you spend a big majority of your time realizing how cruel people can be, how much they go out of their way to hurt another person, it makes the level of trust you have diminish quickly.” 

“Well, I do hope that after today you’d be willing to put money on the fact that I’m not a terrible person. I mean, I don’t think I am, at least.” 

She laughs and tilts her head, smiling across at him. “You aren’t terrible at all. Quite the opposite, in fact.” 

Their waitress bring over the bill and he pulls it toward him before she can even get her hand out.

“Robin—” she chides, but he shakes his head and pulls out his wallet. 

“Nonsense, I insist. I didn’t get to buy you that drink last night anyhow, so this is making up for it. I—would you like to do something with me though? I was thinking if you want—if you’re not busy, that is, if you’d like to come out to the forest with me? It’s beautiful at this time of day, well all the time really. But I can show you my setup out there and it’s a nice walk, if—” 

“Yes,” she cuts in, letting out laughter that he knows is probably directed at him. “Maybe just to get you to stop rambling though.” 

He grins and gets out of the booth, holding his hand out to take her’s to help her up. She looks down at it for a moment, and his stomach flutters when he recognizes what she’s doing, as she tangles her fingers with his and presses her palm to his. It’s not her injured hand, no, that one is shoved into the pocket of her dress and hidden from view, but it’s a step in a direction he hopes is positive. 

She says  _ ‘goodbye’ _ and  _ ‘thank you’ _ to Granny as they make their way out the door, and he falls in step beside her, she bumps her shoulder against his and flashes him a shy smile. “So tell me about the woods. About how are we doing?” 

“It’s not too terrible. I’ve got the stations set up in different areas to see the differences in the moisture levels. Since I’m the only person working out here though, I’ve left a bit of my equipment out here. It’s not the most thrilling job in any way, but I really do enjoy it. What about you? When do you want to move up to being a writer?” 

“I’m working on it, slowly,” she starts. “After the fire I took a good bit of time off of work to get myself situated and recover. When I got back though, it was like all of the progress I’d made toward becoming a journalist had been put on the backburner. With it being such a small town they luckily didn’t hire a replacement, Mal took over my job along with hers so that my boss didn’t let me go.” 

“She sounds like an incredible friend.” 

“She’s the greatest,” Regina agrees. “But now that I’m back and mostly full time, I need to practically start over. The owner, Leopold Blanchard, isn’t the nicest person. His daughter works at the paper as well so typically, whatever she wants, she gets. She doesn’t abuse it as much as most people would, but it makes it terribly difficult when I’m trying so hard to work my way up, and she starts sleeping with the head writer  _ and  _ her Dad owns the paper, so she just skyrockets into whatever position she wants.” She stops talking then, her eyes wide as she looks at him. “I’m—oh that probably made me sound so bitchy. I’m so sorry.” 

He’s chuckling, shaking his head. “Nonsense, it makes you sound human. We all have people like that. Trust me, there’s a good number of people that I work with that I’d much rather let get lost in the woods.” 

They walk into the entrance of the forest and he guides her to the right, pointing out a tent set up near a tree in the distance. “Besides,” he continues, “I don’t know much about those people but I’m sure that you’re vastly more talented than them. Even in conversation, you’re incredibly smart, and I’m sure that shows on paper as well.” 

“You’re sweet,” she smirks, squeezing his hand. They come up on the tent that he’s got set up and he lets go of her hand, kneeling down to reach into the tent and pull out a few things. 

She’s kneeling right down next to him as he puts the tool into the soil, pulling out the dirt sample. He goes through the explanations of how the soil levels can change and what it does to the forest, and while he’s too engaged into their conversation and less than he should be on her, he shifts his foot and feels himself slipping before he can do anything about it. “Oh, shit—” he lets out, trying and failing to catch his balance on a log just before them. 

She reaches out to help steady him and before he knows it, he’s trying to stop himself from slipping down the little hill by holding onto her body, and he’s pulling her down right along with him. Regina lets out a yelp and she falls forward, landing with an  _ ‘oomph’ _ on top of him. 

He looks up at her and a little zing of excitement rushes through him as he suddenly realizes just how close they are, their lips brushing as he tries to catch his breath, but before he can fully react she’s leaning toward him, her lips pressing to his when she plants a hand to his chest and tilts up a bit, her nose bumping his. 

Her lips are brilliantly soft against his, her palm flat against his chest, hair falling down in wisps against his face from where her bun has shifted. She lets out a little breath and when she pulls away he opens his eyes, the apology falling from his lips before he can even think. 

“I didn’t mean to use you to catch me. Oh my, Regina, I am so sorry—” he blurts out, until she’s leaning down and kissing him,  _ really  _ kissing him, again once, twice more before pulling back. 

“Don’t be,” she breathes out. He can see the look of recognition on her face when she shifts and looks down, realizes that she’s splayed out over top of him. She scrambles up to her feet, straightening out her gorgeous dress as he gets up. There’s a beat of silence between them before they’re both laughing. She’s wrapping her arms around her stomach and doubling over, a gorgeous ring of laughter echoing through the trees around them. “I just—I haven’t kissed anyone in so long. I’m not sure what came over me.” 

“Well let me tell you,” he grins, stepping closer to her as she straightens back up, his body close to hers, “I would gladly do it again, any time.” 

Her eyes dart down once and she sucks in a breath while she looks at lips before closing the distance between them, her lips pressing against his own. Her hand comes up to curl over his shoulder and he brings his own up, his fingers lightly caressing over her scarred cheek. She flinches a little but doesn’t pull away, then kisses him again. He runs the pad of his thumb gently over the curve of her cheekbone as they trade chaste kisses and she nips at his bottom lip, sucking on it lightly before pulling away. 

Regina’s blushing as she presses her forehead against his, catching her breath. She backs away barely, her hand smoothing out a crease in his shirt, thumb running once over the thick vein in his neck. “You’re good at that,” she breathes out with a laugh. 

“You are too,” he grins, his hand coming up to settle at her hip. “We should do it again.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for Thursday of OQ Prompt Party
> 
> Prompt #89: Regina gets a happy ending massage from Robin

They’ve been dating for almost three months now. 

Regina swears up and down that it’s nothing serious whenever anyone asks. It’s not, not really… They just spend most of their time together, go to dinner or long walks through the woods. She’s always sending him messages, or on the phone with him late into the night, and almost every time they’ve been in one another’s company since their first day together she’s found herself drawn to him. More than once they’ve ended up wrapped around one another, making out more than she’d care to admit. 

He’s a great person though, and an even better kisser, and so  _ good _ with his hands. 

They’ve just finished cleaning up the dinner she’s made, a pasta primavera that he gushes over for the first hour after dinner. She’s been trying to clean up the dishes for almost twenty minutes now but he keeps distracting her, wrapping his arms around her and pressing kisses to the left, unscarred side of her neck. 

“Seriously darling, it was delicious. I don’t understand how you can cook like that. You’ve outdone yourself again.” 

“And you’re distracting me from cleaning up,” she chides, bumping back against him, the curve of her ass nestled against his thighs. Their height difference makes her laugh and when he spins her in his arms and kisses her soundly, she brings her arms up and wraps them around his shoulders. She kisses him once, and then again before pulling back with a  _ ‘smack’ _ . “You know, if you could just let me finish cleaning up we could go sit on the couch and I could devote my entire attention to you and not on the pots and pans that are getting awfully grimey in my sink.” 

He leans in and kisses her again, his hands coming down to squeeze her ass. “Alright then, I’ll leave you be, I promise. I could help, you know, if you’d just let me do something.” 

“Nonsense, you’re a guest,” she tsks, turning back around in his arms toward the sink. “You should go sit and I’ll get this done quickly. My back is killing me anyhow, and I’m tired of standing.” 

“You could let me give you a massage when you’re done,” he whispers in her ear, pressing up against her backside, his hands coming up and thumbs digging gently into the muscles at her shoulders. 

She tenses against him, dropping her head to shake it twice. “No, I’ll be fine.” 

They’ve had sex before but she’s quick to turn off the lights, to try and shield him from her body, what she truly looks like. He’s amazing, honestly, and she’s blessed to have learned how incredibly  _ good  _ he is in bed but it still makes her nervous, brings that itching feeling to her skin when he peels her clothing off of her. It’s silly and she knows it, hates herself a little for it. He’s been so good to her, and is still so patient to let her work through her anxiety. 

The first time they were together she knew how badly she wanted him, had spent the better half of the two hours after their lunch wrapped around one another. She’d been straddling him on the couch, grinding against him while he sucked on that spot on her neck that drew out those embarrassing sounds from her when he asked if she wanted to move this to her bedroom. She had tensed up immediately and he was quick to retract his question, to promise her that they were fine with what they were doing, but she knew how badly she wanted him. She insisted on keeping her tank top on, and then after a few times together when she was finally more comfortable she asked to keep the lights off. He was so good to her, always patient and slow, and it pains her that she’s still not quite ready for him to fully see her. 

She feels the respect between them when he drops his hands back to her hips, squeezing once against her side before stepping back. “Go ahead and finish up darling. I’ll be in your living room, okay?” 

“Yeah,” she nods, hating herself just a bit for ruining their moment with her anxiety. She finishes up the dishes as quickly as she can and when she heads back out into the living room she finds him sitting on her couch, deep into one of her books on the history of Storybrooke that she’d bought to keep her busy during her time on bedrest. “Find something interesting?” 

“This is fascinating. Would you mind if I borrowed this? I would love if I could read it and maybe you can take me on a proper tour, and I can find all of the interesting history in the town. It’s so neat to realize—” he pauses, looking up at her. She must have an awful look on her face to match how shitty she actually feels, because the moment his eyes fall upon her he stops talking and he’s off of the couch, taking her into his arms. “What’s wrong?” 

“I’m sorry,” she shakes her head, dropping her forehead to his shoulder. “I—It’s still all so fresh and new, you know? And trust me when I say I’ve enjoyed every second of this… whatever it may be,” she says, waving a hand around them both. “I guess the thought of you seeing me naked, realizing exactly how I look, it makes me nervous. I know you pretty well now and I know that you don’t judge, but it’s just that no one’s ever really ever  _ seen _ me before, not like you.” 

Robin brings his arms around her and tucks a finger under her chin, lifting her head so that she’s looking at him. He leans in, drawing his lips over the curve of her jaw, up the line of her cheek, and as she tries to duck her head again he presses a kiss to her forehead. “You have nothing to be ashamed of,” he whispers, his palm coming up to rest upon her cheek. “You’re beautiful Regina, in every way. I’m in awe of your strength and your bravery and your  _ body,  _ god love, you’re stunning. It’s going to take some getting used to, and you’re right in that this is all so fresh and new, but if you’ll allow me I want to spend time getting to know you. To truly know you, in every way. When you’re comfortable,  _ if  _ you’re ever comfortable, I want to worship your body and bring you all of the pleasure you deserve.” 

She tilts her head back up and leans in, kissing him slowly. She takes a hesitant step forward and her body molds against his, each curve formed perfect with him, her hands coming up to cup at his neck, holding him to her. He’s the first to draw his tongue over her lips and she opens up for him, groaning when he deepens the kiss and tightens his arms around her, hands trailing down to grasp at her hip, working their way down to her ass. 

“Let me love you,” he whispers again, and with her single nod he’s gripping her thighs and lifting her up, carrying her to her bedroom. 

He sets her carefully down onto the bed and as she scoots back he crawls over her, his hand coming up to lift at her shirt carefully, fingertips brushing over her hip. He breaks their kiss and places chaste kisses down her jaw and over the line of her throat that has her back arching, her fingers tangling with his shirt as she grips onto him. 

“This okay?” he asks, his lips shifting from one side of her neck to the down, kissing down her scarred shoulder. 

“So good,” she whispers. She sucks in a breath as his lips trail over her marred skin, dotting her with kisses in the spots that have given her more anxiety than she’d ever be willing to admit. He makes her feel better though, makes her feel more like herself than she’s felt in so long. “You know that massage you promised earlier?” she asks, her voice a bit more breathy than she wants to let on. 

He kneels up above her and grins, his thumb tracing circles over her hip bone. “Really?” he asks, and she can’t help but laugh at how giddy he looks. “Take your shirt off and roll over darling.” 

He sits back and she sits up a little, pulling her shirt up and over her head. She bites her lip when his eyes rake over her, holding her breath a little when he smiles and leans in, tipping her chin up so he can kiss her soundly. “You’re gorgeous,” he murmurs against her lips, sitting further back and she rolls over. 

His hands come first to her hips, fingertips spreading across her lower back. “Do you still have that lotion in your drawer?” he asks, and she hums and nods in response. While he’s digging through her drawer she settles into her bed, folds her arms beneath her head and tilts it slightly so she can watch him out of the corner of her eye. He shifts himself on the bed and kneels over her thighs, stripping his shirt off and tossing it onto her floor. 

Regina turns at that and smirks at him, the broad, gorgeous plane of his chest within her eyesight. “That’s not fair,” she whines. “You get to look at me, but I can’t look at you?” 

“All in good time,” he chides. She hears the cap of the lotion bottle open and moments later the warm lotion is being spread over her lower back, his calloused hands digging into her skin. She lets out a gasp and a groan as his thumbs press into her spine, rubbing deep, small circles against her. 

“This is incredible,” she groans again, he leans down and presses a kiss to the top of her spine.

“Let me know how you feel, or if anything’s too much.” 

“This is great. Seriously Robin, it feels— _ oh, so good,”  _ she gasps as he hits a tight muscle. His hands have only been on her smooth skin until now, and as he digs his fingertips into the rough, tightly wound skin on her back she gasps and lets out a low hiss, her head turning, forehead pressing into the bed. “That’s—” 

He stops, his palms still against her but not moving. “Is it okay?” 

“It’s weird, but good. You don’t have to stop,” she nods, shifting up a bit to turn and look at him. She smiles up, trying to convey the truth she’s telling as he leans down and kisses her softly. 

When she lays back down he continues and she blisses out for a bit, contently laying against her smooth silk sheets. He works his way up her back and teases against her bra strap, his fingers brushing under it. She rouses for a moment and tells him to take it off, and when he nimbly unhooks it she shifts up and slips it over her shoulders and off, dropping it onto the floor beside her. 

She lies back down before he can reach his hands around her, but when her bare nipples brush against her silk sheets she gasps and shimmies against the bed. His legs are spread over hers and she can feel him hardening against her, just faintly, but it still makes her grin. “Liking this as much as I am?” she asks, glancing over her shoulder. 

He coughs and smirks back at her, his palms continuing their trek over her back, digging into her muscles to work out the kinks against her skin. “Have you seen yourself? I can’t get enough of you darling.” He tilts down and kisses lightly up and down her spine, shifting his body back so he’s nestled over her calves. She can feel the tips of his fingers against her leggings and he dips them beneath the waistband, brushing over the top curve of her ass. His broad chest is flush against the backs of her thighs, and she feels the pressure of his kiss against the swell of her ass. 

“Can I peel these off of you?” he asks, but his voice is more gravelly and deep than it has been. 

“Please?” she gasps, lifting her hips so he can drag her leggings down. He leaves her forest green, lace panties, much to her surprise, but once she hears her pants hit the floor the groan that he lets out from the sight of her goes straight between her thighs. 

“You’ve had on this scrap of lace the entire night and haven’t told me? Bloody hell,” he growls, leaning down to nip at the bottom curve of her ass. She gasps and arches her back, pressing her ass up toward him. She hears the bottle of lotion again and his hands are on her almost immediately after, fingers caressing at her bottom and the back of her thighs, all the way down to her calves.

The more that he touches her, the more antsy she becomes, her hips circling with each pass of his thumbs, working their way between her legs to the thick muscle on the inside of her thighs. “You—you can take them off, you know,” she gasps when he brushes over her panties, adding a little pressure where she so desperately craves it. 

He groans at that and presses his palms to her ass, squeezing once, and then again for good measure. He peels the panties off of her and dips two fingers between her legs, moaning and dropping his head to her skin, dotting kisses along her hip. “God darling, you’re so wet.” 

“It feels so good,” she whimpers when he circles his fingers against her opening, one fingertip dipping barely into her, just up to the first knuckle. She gasps, burying her head into the pillow beneath her, shifting her hips against his hand. “I—didn’t think this was going to be one of those massages. I wouldn’t have turned it down so quickly earlier.” 

He grins against her and kisses the curve of her ass again, nipping at her smooth skin then soothing over it with his tongue. She can feel him sit up and stretch out over top of her, reaching beside her head to grab the other pillow. “Lift your hips,” he tells her, helping her shift until the pillow is situated beneath her hips, lifting her backside up into the air. He trails his hands back down her back, situating himself between her thighs. He spreads her legs and leans down, dragging his tongue through the wet heat between her legs just once. “Fuck, you taste so good.” 

She moans at that, and when he drops his head back down and teases her with the tip of his tongue she grips the pillow beneath her head and shifts her hips, circling them against his mouth. “Oh, god,” she cries out when he drags his tongue against her clit, flicking twice over the sensitive nub. “Robin, please,” she whimpers, tilting her hips up against his mouth. His hands are still massaging the backs of her thighs and it feels so good, her senses heightened, the steady, teasing pleasure of his mouth against her making her more and more turned on. 

“Patience,” he whispers, his breath against her making her gasp. Everything feels so good from how long he’s been touching her, and she knows that the second he truly begins, in the ways that he has in the past four months, she’s not going to make it long. He’s so good with his hands and his mouth, a fact she quickly learned during their first time together, and she craves him. She needs him like she needs air, needs him to bring her over that edge. She won’t beg. She wants to, god she wants to, but she won’t. She’s not going to give him that satisfaction, that smug bastard, he— 

He’s diving in now, gripping at her hips and eating her out in earnest. She can’t help but to cry out as his tongue laves over her, arms wrapping around her writhing hips to hold her in place while she smacks her palms against the mattress beneath them, gasping out his name. “Don’t stop, god, more—I need,” she groans, and his arms shift, one arm working to pin her in place while the other sneaks between her legs, one finger thrusting inside of her, curling it until he fingers that spot inside of her that has her crying out, muffling the moans coming from her into the pillow. 

“You’re so tight,” he growls against her, easing his finger in and out of her slowly, working her up before he adds a second. He’s moving them so slowly, oh god, working them in and out of her at a snail’s pace. He does this though, brings her up so slowly, dotting kisses to her ass and down her thighs and teasing her until she can’t take it anymore. It’s one of those little things she loves about him—no, doesn’t love. That can’t be what this is. 

“Please, I need more. I can’t—it feels too good.” 

“It’s supposed to,” he chuckles, and she brings a hand back and taps him on the top of the head. 

“Just,  _ fuck,  _ eat me out. Please, I need you too. I need to come.” 

“As you wish darling,” he grins against her and then it’s all over from there. He starts thrusting his fingers inside of her, curling them against her g-spot, giving her these tight little circles that are building her up-up-up. She grips at the pillow beneath her head, curling her arms in and around it, writhing her hips against his hand with a high-pitched cry, trying to meet his fingers thrust for thrust. She can’t hold on though, and his tongue is still tracing over skin, pressing kisses and nipping at her. “Suck on my—” she gasps, and his arms shift and from the way her body is bowed he’s practically beneath her. She feels his fingers enter her again, press inside of her before he’s pulling out so he can lean in and suck on her. She feels his lips wrap around her clit and suck, then quickly pulling away to circle over her bundle of nerves with his tongue. She’s practically sweating now, panting as he brings her higher and higher, holding her on that edge. 

“Robin,” she cries, her hips shifting as he starts again and thrusts faster, circling his fingers over her g-spot in these tight circles that bring her up higher. “Please, I need to, I’m going to come.” 

“Let go for me darling,” he lets out against her and then she can feel her orgasm building as he continues fucking her, his fingers coming out of her to circle over her clit. 

She crescendos after that, her orgasm building higher and higher until she falls over the edge. She curls in on herself on the bed and she closes her eyes, burying her face into the pillow to muffle her cries. It feels so wonderful and he keeps the tight circles against her clit going, pushing two fingers in with his other hand to bring her up. Every bit of her skin is so hot, a tingling feeling coursing its way through her. Her legs are shaking, hands gripping at the sheets beneath her, grounding her as she grinds against his hand. He’s pinning her in place while he fucks her harder, her heart pounding as he brings her up higher once again. “Oh fuck, no, I’m not going to—” she cries out, her hips writhing against him. “Ag—again, I can’t, it feels so fucking good, you’re so, oh,  _ oh god.”  _

She’s a mess after that, his fingers inside of her circling faster over her g-spot until she’s almost screaming into the pillow, muffling the sound and she lets go. He’s moaning into her and it heightens everything, the swell of her heart as she tries terribly to tamp down the feelings she has for this incredible man. She feels her whole body tense up and then the most incredible release she’s ever felt coursing its way through her. She spasms against him as she comes down, his fingers slipping out of her, his body shifting to lie beside her in her bed. She shifts to catch her breath, practically panting as she recovers from her orgasm. He’s on her right side and when she finally turns and shows him her face he’s practically grinning, the smug bastard, his hand drawing circles over her scarred hip and back. 

“Holy shit,” she breathes out, bringing her hand up to caress his forearm, up to his bicep and toward his shoulder. She cards her fingers through his hair and tugs him closer, leaning in to kiss him slowly, her tongue tangling with his. They stay like that for a while, making out lazily, hands caressing over one another’s skin. It’s far more intimate than she had ever imagined it could be, and when they finally part and she gets up, pads naked across her bedroom toward her bathroom, she feels her heart ache with the moment they’ve shared, the obstacle that she’s taken a step toward overcoming. 

She comes back a moment later and he’s stripped the top sheet from her bed, tossed it in a haphazard pile on her floor. He must have taken his pants off while she was in the bathroom because when she comes back he’s naked, and when she glances down at him he’s hard, looks almost painfully so. Her eyebrow raises and he shrugs, smirking up at her. “You can’t have expected me  _ not _ to react to that. You—” 

“I know what I did,” she laughs, climbing over him to straddle him. His hands come up to hold at her hips, squeezing once, and she places her hands on his chest and slowly pushes him to lie back down against her bed. 

“Now,” she smirks, laying over him, a burst of confidence coursing its way through her, “let me show you just how  _ appreciative _ I am for what you’ve given me.” 

Their connection feels so much stronger now, as she takes him inside of her and works them both up, her hips meeting his in a stream of slow, steady thrusts. He spends his time brushing his hands over her, fingertips tracing over the swirling patterns in her scarred skin, mapping her every curve, memorizing the feel of her. She continues to kiss him, her body flush against his, hips circling as they both build one another up and fall over that edge together. She trails her fingers up and down his arm as they come down from their high, no words shared between them. He’s drawing these little patterns against the curve of her back, and she sighs, her eyes fluttering closed, the feeling of safety and exhaustion, and a bit of love for him guiding her to a good night’s sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for Friday of OQ Prompt Party
> 
> Prompt #170 - Robin cooking in Regina’s kitchen for the first time

He’s positively shaking. 

She’s not been one to share since he met her that fateful year ago, not in the slightest. She’s witty and sarcastic, quick to call him out on his ridiculous tendencies, and when he had begged her last week to let him cook her a nice meal in her own home, she rolled her eyes at him but finally agreed. 

It’s how he’s found himself more nervous than he’s ever been, pacing in a short line in her tiny apartment kitchen. He’s banished her to the living room while he cooks their dinner, and while he does truly want her attention occupied, he could use her culinary expertise on the seafood pasta he’s cooking for them. Watching her in the kitchen is like watching a performer nail their perfect routine. She’s brilliant as she mixes ingredients, tastes things and just adds randomly until her dinner tastes incredible. The aftermath is amazing too, how pleased she is with herself when he tries whatever creation she’s made that day, how she wraps her arms around his shoulders and dots kisses along his cheeks when he praises her. She’s adorable, really, and he can’t stop himself from loving her. 

Helping her to find her happiness is one of the greatest things he has ever achieved. When her laughter echoes through the room he wants to wrap her up in his arms and kiss her breath away. 

It’s part of the reason why he’s so nervous tonight. The ring nestled safe in his pocket feels as if it’s weighing him down, making itself well known each time he takes a step through her kitchen. He wants to marry her. He wants to spend the rest of his life making her smile, making her laugh, bringing her the joy that she deserves. She’s made him the happiest he’s ever been in this last year and even though he knows that rings and labels aren’t everything, he would love for her to be his wife. 

“Robin,” she sing-songs from the living room. “Are you just pacing in there or are we actually going to eat at some point this evening?” 

“It’s coming along!” he stutters, fumbling to get the boiling water turned down before it flows over. “Dammit Locksley, get yourself together. You’re cool and suave, not some bumbling idiot. She’ll say yes, maybe, hopefully. If not then it’s not the right time. Stop shaking.” He mumbles his mantra to himself over and over as he cooks the pasta and takes the salmon out of the oven, covering it nicely in the basil pesto he’d made from one of the recipe cards she had tucked into her cabinet. 

“Bloody hell, this is not your first date,” he mumbles again as he puts their plates together. 

“You know,” she calls out again, this time her voice closer than before, “You could just let me come in and help you. What is it that you always like to say? That  _ ‘I could help if you’d let me do something’.  _ Come on Robin, just let me help. You know you want to. Things would go by so much faster and then we could have so much more time for other activities.” 

“You do know how much I love activities,” he laughs. “It’s about finished up now dear. You can come in.” 

She pads in immediately and comes up behind him, snaking her arms around his waist and burying her face between his shoulder blades. “It does smell good. You seem to have outdone yourself.” 

Robin puts the finishing touch on his plate and brings his hand up to squeeze her arm. “You haven’t tasted it. Might want to wait with the praise until you’ve tried it and we end up ordering a pizza.” 

“Nonsense,” she whispers, kissing his shoulder. He turns in her arms and brings a hand up to cup her cheek, smoothing his thumb over her cheekbone as he leans in and kisses her slowly. She opens her mouth to him and brings her arms around him, slips her hands into his back pockets and squeezes his ass. “Mmm,” she moans quietly into the kiss, breaking it just as slowly as he began. “Let’s eat so we can do that a few more hundred times.” 

She steps away from him and passes by him quickly, lifting their plates to carry them to her counter. She’s fleetingly quick and it takes him a moment to recover, to grab their wine glasses and follow her closely behind. “I can’t make any promises darling, but if—” he starts, but before he can finish his sentence she’s already sat herself on the barstool and is scooping the first bite into her mouth. 

“Oh lord Robin, this is  _ delicious,” _ she groans, taking another bite as soon as she’s finished her first. “Seriously, I’m not sure how this is the first time I’ve ever actually let you cook in my kitchen. This is so good.” 

He joins her in taking a bite and he shocks himself at how actually good the meal is. They sit in comfortable silence for a few moments, trading soft smiles and innocent glances as they eat dinner. He steals a few kisses from her, just small ones between bites and he loves how much he truly  _ loves _ her. 

“This has turned out to be a great evening,” she smirks as she finished up her food. “I was a little nervous for you, mainly because of how nervous you seemed when you got here. It’s just a dinner darling, it’s not like tonight’s going to change our lives.” 

He chokes on his wine, swallowing roughly before he turns and looks at her. “It is just a dinner, but also much more than that.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she chides, turning to face him. “It… may have taken me a year to let you cook in my house but that’s not all this is,” she smiles. “Sorry I’m so particular about things.” 

He shakes his head, stands from the stool and steps closer to her, putting his hands on her hips. She looks up at him and he leans down to kiss her, nipping at her bottom lip before soothing it with his tongue then pulling away. “You’re perfect, love. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

They stay like that for a while, lips pressed to one another's, trading slow, lazy kisses in her kitchen. She’s lifted her arms and wrapped one hand around his neck, the other draped carefully over his shoulder and she’s shifted a bit closer to him. She smells of apples and cinnamon, a tell-tale sign that she’d most likely concocted some sort of dessert before he came over. 

He breaks the kiss after a while to catch his breath, pressing his forehead to hers. “I love you,” he whispers, cupping her cheek with his palm. 

“I love you too,” she whispers back, and her smile gives him all the courage that he’s been searching for this entire night. 

He steps back and reaches his right hand into his pocket, wrapping it around the diamond ring nestled safe there. “Regina, for the past year and a half I’ve had the honor of learning so much about you, of loving you. You’re incredible, in every way. It’s been such a privilege getting to know you after all this time, getting to learn how much you’ve overcome. You exude strength and wisdom in everything that you do. You’re so smart and bloody gorgeous and I feel like the luckiest man in the world to be able to wake up next to you.” Robin then drops down carefully, pulling the ring from his pocket and holding it up to show her. “Will you be willing to let me do it again, for the rest of our lives? Will you marry me?” 

.::.

Oh god, he’s actually doing it. 

She had that sinking gut feeling when he walked into her apartment that night that something was going to be different. He was far too nervous for any sort of a date, and it’s not like they haven’t been together for the past year. He was so jumpy and shaky, and while she had to bide time in the living room while he cooked, the thought had passed through her mind for barely a minute, the  _ ‘what if he proposes’  _ question that she’s been quietly hoping for. 

She doesn’t think she’s ever been this happy before. There was so much of her life stripped away when that fire took part of her body, the joy and happiness that she craved to feel more than anything else drawn away from her, shoved into a box and tied away. She never thought she could have this, or that she even deserved it, yet there’s this beautiful man in front of her dropped down onto one knee, spilling his heart. 

He's smart, and funny, and incredibly handsome and it terrifies her. There is no reason that anyone like him would ever want to be with her, but she's found herself so lucky to wake up next to him everyday, to be able to take his hand and kiss him, and call him her own. 

She’s madly in love with him, and he wants to _ marry _ her. Not just live with her, not just lie in bed with her late at night and curl his arm around her, or tug her close while they’re watching a movie on the couch. No, he wants to actually marry her, to slip a ring on her finger and call her his wife, and that thought terrifies her. 

He loves her through all of her scars, the tight ripples of skin against her body, the emotional baggage she carries around with her more than she’d ever admit. She knows it’s real though, that the love they feel for one another runs deeper than anything she’s ever experienced. 

He’s it for her. 

“Yes,” she gasps out, the smile he shines up at her radiating through her heart. 

He’s up seconds later, lifting her into his arms as he kisses her. 

She yelp and wraps her arms around his neck to kiss him back, feels his palms pressing into her spine as he holds her in place against him. 

He sets her down and puts just enough space between them to lift her hand and slip the ring onto her finger. It’s absolutely stunning, just perfect in every way, and she cups his cheek and stretches up onto the tips of her toes, kissing him again and again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for Saturday of OQ Prompt Party
> 
> Prompts #71 - Robin and Regina take a walk on the beach and # 75 - Regina shares an unusual fear

Their small wedding is intimate, and perfect, and everything she could have wanted her wedding to be. 

He took her as his wife in the middle of a beautiful forest opening, surrounded by the green leaves hanging from their branches. Her dress white lace and tight against her skin, flaring out at her hips and falling at her waist in a circle around her. With a bit of persuasion from Mal and Ruby her dress was backless, the lace wrapping around her front and meeting at the top of her back, with sleeves coming down her arms to rest at her wrists. Her hair was pulled into a loose bun that rested against the nape of her neck, with a single green flower carefully tied into her bun. Her veil hung down to her waist, a sheen layer of white to hide her scars, but when they found themselves back in the cabin between the wedding and the reception, taking what few seconds they had to themselves before they went back to their family, Robin had unclipped the veil from her hair and mapped the curve of her back with his palm, whispering his love into her skin. 

After the guests eat dinner they mingle, her palm permanently pressed to his as she drags them through the crowds of their friends and family, a giddy smile spread across her cheeks the entire night. She loves him so much, especially when he steals kisses from her when she’s least expecting it, or pulls her out onto the dance floor and presses his body to hers. 

By the time they got back to the cabin they were both exhausted, a little wired from all the excitement, and starving. Granny had warned her that morning that she wouldn’t have time to eat, let alone want to from the nerves, and it hadn’t hit her until then that neither of them had eaten since the night before. Bless her though, Granny had made them burgers with fries, and a full container of mozzarella sticks, and left them inside the oven with a note on the counter. 

They stripped down to their underwear and sat on the floor of the cabin’s kitchen, sharing food and laughing into the night. 

It was perfect— so, incredibly perfect. 

They left for their honeymoon a few days later and it’s how she finds herself lying on the beach, dressed in a thin purple sundress overtop of her bikini, her sunglasses perched on her face and a sunhat on her head. 

Vacations make her terribly nervous, with new people seeing her, staring at her. She tends to cover up from them, not give them an opportunity to even make her feel bad about her appearance, but Robin has insisted that she’s perfect, and if anyone else says a word then he’ll take care of it. 

He’s asleep next to her, stretched out in the beach chair on his stomach, his arms curled under his head. He’s beautiful, honestly, and her heart flutters that he’s actually hers, that she’s lucky that she gets to call him her husband. She stretches a hand out and cards her fingers through his messy hair, a little crunchy from the salt water drying in it. He wanted to go to a beach, had whispered his desire to see her in a bikini, skin sun-kissed and tan against the sand. 

She felt her anxiety rising, for more than one reason, but she tamped it down and promised him they could go. There’s one problem with their trip that she doesn’t want to tell him, even though they’re married and she shouldn’t be afraid to tell him anything, but it’s silly and ridiculous. She’s a grown woman, she should be over her fear of the ocean by now. 

It’s a little ironic, that the woman burned in a fire is terrified of the ocean, but she is. It’s unnecessary that one little incident in the lake with her father when she was 8 has followed her all this time, but she hates it. It’s entirely too mysterious, and the moment she slipped off of the boat and fell backwards into the water still wakes her up at night. 

He looked so excited when he had found an all inclusive trip to the British Virgin Islands, and she didn’t have the heart to tell him no. 

He slowly wakes beneath her hand, a soft smile spreading across his face. “Hello darling,” he stirs, humming as his eyes open and he leans up on his arms. “How long was I out?” 

“Not too long,” she smiles, her thumb tracing circles against the back of his head. “You’re getting a bit tan though. Might want to put some sunscreen on.” 

“I’ll probably take a dip first. It’s so hot out. You care to join me?” 

She shakes her head, holding up the novel perched in her lap. “I’m good babe. You go enjoy.” 

“Oh come on, love,” he teases, lifting the brim of her hat and leaning in to kiss her softly. “It’s not cold at all, and it’s so clear. You can just drop your feet in if you’d like and test it out.” 

She shakes her head, sliding her bookmark in and closing her novel. “I’d rather not Robin.” 

He sits back, shifts in the seat to look at her, an eyebrow raised. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing, it’s… it’s stupid.” 

He reaches out and pulls her hand from beneath her book, squeezing his hand against hers. “If there’s anything I know about you Regina Mills-Locksley,” he grins, and she can feel her own smile blooming at their new last name, “everything about you is the furthest thing from stupid. What is it?” 

She focuses her attention on his hand, using her thumb to trace the outline of the veins that protrude from his skin. “I’m afraid of the ocean,” she rushes out, her head ducked, making her voice mumble. 

“You’re what?” 

“Afraid… of the ocean. It’s a real thing and I hate it.” 

He’s quiet for a moment and it makes her nervous, but then this shit-eating grin spreads across his face and he’s laughing. Not at her, no, just… laughing. 

“Oh darling,” he chuckles, shifting himself over to her seat. She can feel herself pouting and knows she’s being a bit ridiculous, but when he situaties himself on her chair and drapes her legs over his and runs a thumb over the arch of her calf, she sinks into her chair and looks up at him. “That’s nothing to hate about yourself,” he chuckles. “It’s perfectly normal. You don’t have to get in the ocean. But why did you let me suggest a beach town for our honeymoon? I would have been just as ecstatic anywhere else.”

“You seemed so excited though,” she sighs, inching herself a bit closer to him. “I didn’t think that I would be this nervous about it, not after all these years. But I’m fine back here, truly. It’s just the thought of getting in that makes me all squirmy.” 

He leans in and kisses her sweetly, brushing the tip of his nose to hers before pulling away. “While I am glad we’re here, I would have been absolutely fine being anywhere as long as I was with you.” 

She laughs at that, swatting his arm before tugging him back to her for another kiss. “You’re a sap, you know that?” 

“I believe it’s called me being dashing and distinguished. Sap works too though.” He pats at her leg and she turns, dropping her legs over the side of her chair and digging her toes into the warm sand. “Let me hop into the water to cool off quick, and then we can go for a walk and grab some lunch.” 

She nods and he steals one more kiss before running off toward the water like a child, diving right in. She’s a bit envious of him, how he glides gracefully through the water before coming back up for air. He looks so much cooler than her when he steps back out of the ocean, water droplets sliding down the plane of his bare, gorgeous chest. She gets up as he comes closer and she wraps an arm around him when he tugs her against his body, grinning down at her. “What’s for lunch?” 

He links his hand with hers and they fall in step along the beach. She wants to get closer to the water, wants to do like he asked and dip her toes in, feel the water brush against her feet. There’s something about being with him that makes her feel so calm, so safe, and if there’s ever a moment for her to take that step and even get close to the water, this is it. 

She starts to walk a little closer, tugging on his hand to pull him near the water while on their walk, and he gives her a look and stops her. 

“You know that you don’t have to get in, right? I’ll never make you do something that you don’t want to, and I’m absolutely fine with just going on our walk.” 

“I know that,” she nods, bringing her free hand up to curl over his bicep, squeezing softly as she steps close to him and kisses his shoulder. “I kind of want to though? I’ve been thinking about it for years now, especially after the fire. Life’s too short to stop yourself from doing something that you want to do, and besides, I’m not trying to dive right in. But feet first, and maybe up to my calves wouldn’t be so bad, right?” 

“Not at all darling,” he replies, kissing her forehead. He’s warm and he feels so safe so she steps closer to him and wraps her arm around him into a hug. “I’m willing to do whatever you need to, as long as it ends in lunch, because I’m starved.” 

She laughs and steps back, pulling him toward the water with her. “When I was little I fell off of the boat that my father had, and all I think about when I think about going into the ocean is how much I flailed. There was seaweed too and it was so slimy and stuck to me and after that, I was just turned off by the whole thing.” 

“Well I can tell you that this water is practically perfect, and you can see everything. I think it’s a good start for you.” 

She gets close and stares down as the waves crash, the white-wash rising and then falling back toward the ocean as the tides move. They stay right on the edge of the water for a while, continuing their walk up the beach toward this little restaurant on the horizon and up toward the town. He’s on her left, closer to the water, and when the water makes its way higher up and brushes against her foot she stops for a moment and revels in it. 

The temperature is incredible and feels wonderful against her feet. It’s gone just as quickly as it was there as the tide goes back out, taking the little wave with it. 

“You good?” he asks, squeezing her hand. They’re almost to the restaurant and she wants to get her feet wet before they go, while she’s got the courage that will probably dissipate by the time they get back to the sand. 

She nods and stops him, turns to the water and watches as the wave comes up and the white-wash brushes her toes. 

“It’s nothing like I remember” she smiles, “In a good way, of course.’ 

“You say when and we can step closer, if you want.” 

She hums and they wait for a moment before a bigger wave comes up on the horizon. She doesn’t step toward it, but as the wave crashes and covers the entirety of her feet, she takes a deep breath and lets the sun soak up her anxiety. As the wave pulls back to the ocean she beams at him, the smile on her face shining. 

“Again?” he asks, squeezing her hand. 

She turns her head and smiles up at him, stepping a little closer to the water. 

“Yeah, again.” 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for Sunday of OQ Prompt Party
> 
> Prompt #173: Robin and Regina want to adopt a baby

It’s something they’ve only discussed in the middle of the night, when they’ve exhausted themselves from whatever activities their day has brought them. 

He wants to be a dad, more than anything. 

She wants to be a mom too, talks about the possibilities of their future, the little baby curled up safely in a blanket, nestled in their arms. They both want so much, but there is an underlying fear of carrying a baby to term with the damage to her body. Her doctors had warned her after her recovery that the chances she could carry a pregnancy safely would be slim. There were reported cases that women with abdominal burn scars, and those that marred her skin did carry over to her stomach, would have complications with the stretching if pregnant. She’s read all of the studies, poured over them late into the night with tears streaming down her cheeks. 

He didn’t know how to help her, how to promise her that he would be okay if the baby wasn’t biologically theirs. That no matter what, they child they took into their home would be so loved and cherished, that blood wouldn’t matter. He just wants them to be as happy as they have been, and not weighed down with  _ what if’s  _ about their future. 

It comes up again one late October evening when they’re curled up on the front porch of their new home, watching the children across the street playing with a soccer ball in their yard. 

“You know,” Robin starts, tracing patterns against her skin, “we don’t have to  _ have _ a baby, per say.” 

She shifts a little to glance at him over her shoulder, her eyebrow raised. 

“I mean, there’s always other options to consider. We could adopt a baby.” 

Her breath hitches and she turns a bit more toward him, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek. “You’d be okay with that?” she asks, her voice watery, eyes brimming with tears. 

“Oh, darling, I’d be thrilled with that.”

She chuckles a little and leans in to kiss him, and he can feel the light tears she’s let out against his cheeks. “I’d been thinking of adoption for a while now. I don’t think—so much could go wrong if I try to carry a baby, and while I love you more than anything in this world, just as much as I already love whatever child we may have… I’d be so afraid that something could go wrong, and if there’s anything I wish it’d be to not leave you in a world where you have to raise a child alone.” She’s crying now, fully, and his heart breaks for her, and when he takes her into his arms she buries her head into his shoulder and grips his shirt. 

“I love loving you, Robin, and I want to spend the rest of our lives together. There are so many babies out there who don’t have homes, that were struck with tragedy at such a young age. I can’t imagine going through what I may go through to bring another child into this world, being so unsure for so long about our fate, when there are so many other children out there that we could help. I’d love to carry our child, I really would, but—” 

“No,” he stops her, pressing a kiss to the palm of her hand that had been gripped against his shirt. “I love  _ you _ more than anything in this world, and I’d love for us to be able to bring a child into our family through adoption.” 

Regina smiles and leans in to kiss him again and again, cupping his cheeks before pulling away. “We’ve got a lot that we need to get situated then.” 

“That we do.” 

.::.

It takes longer than they wish for the paperwork to go through. There’s a lot of waiting involved and while Regina jumps up whenever the phone rings, rushes over to hop that she hears their case manager’s voice on the other line, she’s not so lucky for the first year. 

There are so many late nights, time spent wondering if they’re meant to be parents, if they’re worthy of raising a child of their own. They go through countless homestudy’s with different agencies, people in an out, interviewing them to find a good match. When they sign up to be foster parents though, that’s when their luck hits. 

One rainy Monday morning their phone rings. She can vaguely hear it but Robin stirs before her, reaches out from their bed and brings the phone to his ear. “Mm, hello?” 

He is silent for a moment and she can’t quite make out the voice on the other end of the line, but suddenly his eyes open and he rolls over, legs getting tangled in the sheets as he sits up. “Yes, yes we’ll be right there. No, there’s no worry about that at all, I promise. We’ll be down as soon as we’re dressed.” 

“What is it?” she asks when he hangs up the phone, rolling over to watch as he hops out of bed, frantically turning around trying to find his pants. 

“There’s two kids, down at the hospital. Something happened, a couple of deadbeats abandoning their kids a year ago and they’ve been out on the streets since then. One of them came down with something, the younger one so—Why aren’t you getting dressed? Get up, Regina, we’ve got to go.” 

Her heart is racing, beating right out of her chest. This is it. 

She dresses as quickly as she can, pulling her dress around her body and tying the straps around her waist. When she turns back, Robin is standing at the doorway of their bedroom with his keys in his hand. She comes up and he takes a second to pull her in, kissing her quickly. “Ready?” he asks.

“More than anything.” 

They drive down to the hospital and walk in, seeing their case manager talking with a doctor. There’s a young boy behind him, no more than seven it seems, with his head ducked down, picking at the string at his torn-up pants. 

The social worker, a nice young woman named Belle, comes over to speak with Robin about the situation and while he does, Regina walks down and carefully kneels down in front of the boy. 

“Hi there,” she smiles softly. 

The young boy looks up at her carefully, his right leg bouncing a little as he takes in her appearance, “Hi,’ he whispers, his thumb tracing circles over his jeans. “Who are you?” 

“I’m Regina, and that over there is my husband Robin.” 

“Oh,” he nods, looking up at Robin and then back to her. “Are you here to take Roland away?” 

“I—no, I don’t believe we are. Is that your brother? Roland?” 

“He’s sick, and they put him in that room over there. The—the doctors said that he had new… newmona.” 

“Pneumonia?” she asks, and he nods. 

“That’s it. He’s got that. I love my brother, and I knew that he didn’t feel good and even though I tried real hard, I couldn’t help him. He was coughing so much and,” he sniffles a bit and the tears start to fall down his face. He wipes them quickly with the back of his hand, trying to push them away but the more he tries, the harder they fall. “Is he going to be okay?” 

“Oh,” she whispers, her heart breaking. “I can find out, okay? I’m sure that you did the right thing for your brother. The doctors here can help him.” 

“We don’t have money though,” he cries, burying his face into his palms. Regina shifts up into the seat and wraps an arm around him, bringing him closer to her into a hug. The boy, whom she realizes she still doesn’t know his name, buries his head into her shirt and cries, his arm wrapping around her. “It’ll all be okay though, I promise.” 

He cries it out for a moment before pulling back from her, sniffling once more before wiping at his cheeks. “Adults shouldn’t make promises,” he whispers. “My mom made a promise once, that they just had to go to the store, and then she never came home.” 

“I’m so sorry,” she pauses and he looks up at her. 

“I’m Henry.” 

“Well then, I’m so very sorry Henry.” 

He nods at that and looks up as the doctor, Robin, and the social worker come toward them. 

“Henry,” Belle nods, kneeling down in front of him. “Your brother is going to be okay. You did the right thing by bringing him here. He’s hooked up to some big machines, but they said that he’s going to be just fine. You can go see him now, if you’d like.” 

“Yes,” he gets out, climbing off of the chair and reaching out to tug at Regina’s hand. “She’s coming too, though.” 

Regina looks up at Robin, who looks just as stunned as she feels. Henry’s hand is wrapped around her scarred palm and he doesn’t flinch, just drags her through the hospital to his brother’s room. 

He opens the door and her eyes fall upon a little boy, Roland, she presumes, who can’t be more than four. He’s so small against the hospital bed and she gasps, watching as Henry lets go of her hand and climbs up onto his brother’s bed. 

“Hey Roland,” Henry smiles, holding onto Roland’s hand. He’s awake, but she can tell that he’s tired, letting out a loud yawn before snuggling into his brother’s side. “You’re going to be okay, the doctors said so.” 

“Who are they?” Roland asks quietly, and Robin comes up behind her, wrapping his hand around her waist. 

Henry smiles and looks at both of them, before turning back to his brother. “I think they’re our new parents.” 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #130 - Going Shopping

Roland’s recovery is thankfully quick, and within just a few short months, the boys are cleared to move into their home.

It’s incredible how quickly her life turned around with that one fateful morning. She’s no stranger to change, how one instant can twist your fate and create a whole new world that you could never imagine, but this is by far the best thing that’s ever happened to her.

Regina loves her boys more than anything in this world. Henry is so smart and resourceful. He’s been learning to read more since being brought into her home and has poured through what books she has that he understands. She loves how much he loves reading though, spends her evenings curled up in their bed with her boys, Henry pressed into one side and Roland on the other, while Robin is usually with them, tucked somewhere safe into the pile while they read whatever book Henry had picked out for the evening.

Roland, though, is her little sweetheart, but also mischievous. He’s so energetic, especially now that he’s feeling better. He runs circles around them constantly, firing out twenty or more questions a minute, and he’s always getting into a mess. He loves the outdoors, and she’s caught him more than once staring outside at a tree he keeps asking to climb, regardless of the snow that blankets the ground.

It takes them a bit longer than she wanted it to for them to adjust, but thankfully not as long as she had expected.

Henry is a little wary of them when they first get back to Storybrooke. A lot of the boy’s past was undisclosed because Henry and Roland won’t talk about it, so the trauma they went through is unknown to her and Robin for a while. It keeps them up at night, watching over the boys as they sleep, watching as Henry whimpers and subconsciously wraps an arm around his brother in the bed. They always end up sleeping together in one of the two beds in their room, and more often than not, one of them has a protective arm around the other. It pains her heart to know what little pieces she does of the trauma they’ve gone through at such a young age, being homeless for a year, living in the forest and on the streets, foraging for food and shelter.

They decide that the first weekend after a full week in the house that they need to properly get their home set up for them. The house is a tall, white Cape Cod and there are three bedrooms. However, not anticipating that they’d suddenly become the parents of _two_ children and not one, they set about remodeling their shared office into another bedroom for Roland.

They set off to the store, with Henry and Roland in tow behind them, moving through the different aisles to start with finding each boy a bedroom set.

“I want superheros!” Roland exclaims, rushing forward toward the Avengers themed set before them. He drags Robin along with him, his little palm tight in her husbands grasp, tugging him with all his might. “Look, this one is so _cool!_ ” He runs up to the Hawkeye display and pulls the archery set off of the shelf, spinning to look back at Robin. “Can I get it?”

“I don’t see why not. Henry, do you have any idea what kind of room you’d like?”

He’s quiet and reserved, more than he’s been since he joined their family, and as he starts looking around Regina eyes Robin for a second, silently agreeing that something’s wrong.

“Here, how about I take Roland to pick out his bedspread and you and Regina go look through some other options?” Robin asks Henry, kneeling down to his height.

“Yeah, sure,” Henry agrees, dropping his head. Roland excitedly tugs on Robin’s hand once more and pulls him off down another aisle, and Regina can hear him cheering at the overwhelming number of things he wants. When she turns back Henry has his head down again, like the quiet child she met in that hospital room a month ago.

She kneels down to the ground and looks up at him. There’s the faintest hint of a smile on his face when she looks up but his eyes are still darting between her and his jeans. She reaches out and holds her hand out to him and within a moment he takes it and squeezes his fingers against hers.

“What’s wrong honey?”

He looks up and she follow his gaze to the Harry Potter themed bedroom set next to the superheroes, but he quickly looks back down. He’s quiet for a moment before he sighs and then looks up at her. “It’s too much.”

She wants to take him into her arms and promise that its not but she knows that he won’t believe her right out. “What do you mean?” she asks, hoping that he’ll elaborate.

“My—” he stops, scooting a little closer to her, “my old Mom used to promise us all these things, and how she would be better and we could have a big house, like now, and Roland and I would be allowed to do whatever we wanted. She’d always bring us to the store and show us stuff, like all this, and tell us that if we were good, and if she got better, we could get _all_ this stuff. She lied though, and now… I don’t know.”

Her heart breaks and when his tears start to actually fall she can’t stop herself from tugging him into her for a hug. He presses his face into her shoulder and she feels his arms come up around her neck, his tears seeping into her shirt.

“Henry, listen.” He shakes his head _no_ against her, but she quickly revises what she said. “You don’t have to look, okay? Just listen.” She waits, gives him a second or so to decide if he wants her to talk, and when he nods against her shoulder once more she continues.

“Honey I can tell you that Robin and I already love you and your brother _so much._ The two of you have brought so much light into our lives, and we want to give you boys the childhood that you deserve. I don’t know much about your mom, and I don’t want to speak for her, but we both love you. All of this, picking out your room and doing fun things, this is how your life _should_ have been. And even though I can’t go back and change anything that’s happened to you, I can try my hardest to make things better for you from here on out. I can’t make promises because I know it won’t always be perfect, but I’ll do my best to be the best mom for you and Roland.”

“You’re already a really good mom,” Henry mumbles, pulling back from her and aggressively wiping his tears from his face. “It’s all just so new.”

“I know it is, and it’ll take a while to get used to it. But don’t ever think for one moment that Robin and I don’t love you.”

He nods and glances over her shoulder to the Harry Potter themed furniture, then looks back to her. “Can I really get _anything_ that I want?”

“Anything you want. You can pick whichever set you like the best, or if you don’t like any of them, we can go off to that other section over there and pick some of that out.”

She gets up as he brushes past her and stops in front of the Gryffindor comforter set, his hand hesitantly reaching out, fingertips brushing against it. “This one is so neat,” he breathes out, barely a whisper.

“Do you like Harry Potter?”

He nods, pulling his hand back and looking up at her. “When my parents were doing stuff, Roland and I would hide in our room and I would turn this on. I felt like Harry Potter cause he had to hide from his mean family too.”

She wraps her arm around his shoulder and tugs him back, squeezing him in a hug. Her heart breaks for him and whatever terrible childhood he’s had to endure up until now, but when he buries himself back against her and reaches out, tugging the stuffed owl off of the shelf above him, cuddling it against his chest, she thinks that even with the trauma and turmoil they’ve been through, they’ll still be a family, and they’ll all be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for taking the time to read this story. It’s not over yet, but I’d love to write any prompts you may want to see, so send them my way! 
> 
> Your reviews have all been so great, so truly, thank you!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regina comforts Roland and Henry after one of them has a nightmare.

This place is… nice. He’s hesitant to trust it though, from everything that always happens. 

They seem like good people, Robin and Regina. They give good hugs and Regina makes the best food, just keeps feeding them stuff like they haven’t eaten in months. They haven’t eaten though, not really. Living on the streets was hard, and not something he ever wants to do again. 

Emma and Lily were nice enough. His and Roland’s moms were good people, sometimes. He does love them though, and it makes it harder and harder when he realizes, from living with Regina and Robin, that his moms didn’t really try at all. Emma made so many promises, how she was going to be better, how she would get help from the doctors and take them away from the scary house, be able to live in a big mansion and spend his time playing games and reading books. It was never like that though. The mansion they lived in was really a shed compared to this house. And Lily wasn’t very nice to him. She loved Roland though, would let him outside to play all the time but would ignore him whenever he was upset or crying. 

Regina and Robin are so nice to them though, and sometimes he’s not used to it and it startles him. Roland loves them though, always goes on and on about their new family. He doesn’t remember the times that everything wasn’t so bad, when Emma and Lily weren’t always locked up in their room and doing bad things, or yelling at them. He knows there is a chance that they will get taken away, that maybe they won’t be wanted anymore and they’ll get sent back out onto the streets, but he wants to love Roland and Regina. And maybe he can let himself love them, just a little bit. 

The first two months are scariest.

He’s always been the man of the house, Emma said. He was in charge of Roland, even when Roland was so much smaller than him, and his little brother was always crying. He had to get him out of their bed and make sure that he was okay, make sure that he was safe. No one else did it for him, and it surprises him the most when he realizes that he doesn’t have to do that anymore. 

Roland’s always had nightmares, and the first time he had one in their new home, Henry wasn't sure what to do with himself. 

Regina was in the room only a few minutes after Roland started to cry, twisting himself around in his bed. Henry woke and watched her as she slipped into the door and turned on the light by his bed. She sat on the edge of his mattress and smoothed her hand over his hair, and whispered things that Henry couldn’t hear until he stopped crying. He was a little jealous when she leaned over and kissed his brother’s head, tucked him into his blanket but then she turned around and Henry scrunched his eyes up tight, pretending to be asleep when she came over to him.

“I know you’re awake, honey,” she whispers, and he’s so afraid to open his eyes, remembering all the times that Emma would yell at him when he should be asleep. 

“I’m sorry,” he starts, the tears welling in his eyes. “I know I should be asleep but Roland was crying and I’m supposed to help him and—” 

“Shh, it’s okay,” she whispers, and then her hand is going through his hair too. It feels really good and he scoots a little closer to her. She smells like apples and cinnamon and it feels so warm. “You usually get your brother up when he’s crying?” 

Henry nods, looking up at her. “They would ignore him, and he always gets so scared at night. He plays a lot during the day but he doesn’t like the dark, or scary noises. And when we would sleep in the old house, it was always so loud at night and Roland would cry, so I would hug him until he fell back asleep.” 

He watches as Regina bites her lip, and nods, and he realizes that maybe he shouldn’t have said that because now she looks so sad. “Well,” she starts, shifting so she’s leaning against the headboard of the bed, her thumb drawing these little circles over the back of his head, “I’ll do my best to make sure that he’s not so scared anymore. You don’t have to worry about getting up to get him, and I’m not mad that you’re awake, not at all.”

“Really?” 

“Really,” she smiles, and he sits up a little in the bed and leans against her side. He feels way more awake now, and he doesn’t think she’ll mind. “Can I ask you something?” 

She nods and her arm comes around his shoulder, bringing him a little closer. He cuddles up against her and for one of the only times he can remember, he feels really good. 

“What happened to your skin?” 

.::.

She knew this question would come up soon. 

Before she can answer Roland stirs in the bed parallel to them, and she scoots Henry over, bringing Roland into the bed with them as well. 

“About a year before I met Robin, I was trapped in a burning building.” 

The boys are engrossed in her story, listening intently as she explains. She glosses over some of the more horrifying parts, of the recovery and hatred she felt for herself for so long, and fast-forwards to when she met Robin, and the joy he brought to her life. 

“Did you and Robin get married real fast?” Roland asks, yawning. She realizes that it’s pushing three in the morning, and while she should really get the boys to bed, she wants to give them this, to give them a little piece that will connect them all and make them more like a family. 

“It took a while before I would marry him, but not too long. But Robin is the best person, and he makes me so happy, just like you boys do.” 

“We make you happy?” Henry asks, looking up at her. 

She smiles, leaning down to kiss each of their foreheads. “You boys and Robin make me happier than anything in this world. I’m so thankful that you were brought into our lives.”

“You’re not gonna send us back, are you?” 

She sucks in a breath and tugs them both closer, practically pulling each of them into her lap. “Oh, never. I— If there’s anything I don’t want the two of you to worry about being in our home, it’s that.” She hears a little cough and Robin is in the doorway, his arms crossed across his chest, looking over at her. He’s got that smile on his face, the one that she realizes is reserved only for their little family, and she nods her head for him to come over. “Right, Robin?” 

“Precisely,” he nods, lifting Henry into his lap. Robin situates himself on the bed, letting Henry get settled as the little boy curls up and drops his head to Robin’s chest. “If there’s anything we’ve learned in the past few months, it’s that having the two of you as sons is the greatest thing that has ever happened to us.” 

“We are?” Roland asks, turning himself against Regina. He lets out a big yawn and brings his hand up, curling his fist around the strap of her tank top. Her arm comes around him as she lets out a  _ ‘hmm’ _ in agreement. 

“You’re both the greatest,” Robin whispers. “You’re so strong, and so thoughtful. You two helped us become a family, like we’ve always wanted.” 

“We wanted a family too,” Henry agrees. “You two are the best family.” 

“Yeah,” Roland lets out on a yawn, “the best.” 

Regina shifts herself a little closer to Robin, her side pressed flush to his, and she watches as their boys slowly fall asleep. “We love you boys, so very much.” 

“We love you too,” Henry mumbles, his eyes fluttering closed. 

“Yeah,” Roland mirrors again, his body settling against her. “We love you guys a lot.” 

Robin turns and looks at her and she bites her lip, her heart heavy. He smiles and leans over just a bit to kiss her quietly, his hand coming up to caress Henry’s back, to hold their son in place against him. It’s nothing short of perfect, honestly, and she’s in awe of her husband, how he looks over them, how he runs his fingers through Roland’s hair as he lets out a cute snore, or draws her closer to him. 

“I didn’t think we would get this,” he whispers, his eyes back on the boys as they sleep. “I would have been happy, was already so happy with our life that I didn’t think we needed this. I had accepted that maybe we wouldn’t be parents— that it wasn’t in the cards for us. But god, Regina, I—” he pauses, his eyes closing for a moment as he sucks in a breath. “It’s only been two months and I can’t really remember what it was like without them.” 

“You’re sappy,” she laughs, twisting in the bed where her leg is falling asleep from Roland’s weight against her. “But you’re right though. I don’t want them to ever feel like we don’t want them, or that they have to be afraid of us. Henry mentioned something the other night that got me thinking that they think we can send them back, like they aren’t worth keeping around here. Roland was upset about something, and Henry made a comment… I think his parent’s before has said something along the lines that, if they don’t behave, that no one will want them.” 

He growls, the anger flashing quickly over his face. “I never want them to think that again. The fact that, at any point, these poor kids have had to go through that in  _ any _ way…” 

“I know. I hate it too.” 

They fall silent for a few minutes, just listening to the steady breathing of their sons until Regina speaks up again, turning to face him. “What if we get a family portrait done? We can get all cleaned up and maybe see if Mal can take them? I’ve got all the camera equipment that we need, and we can go out into the clearing in the woods where we got married and take pictures there, and put them up in the living room next to our wedding photos. It can be the next step in our story.” 

“I love that,” he smiles, before letting out a yawn. “That’ll be perfect.” 

They both carefully climb out of the bed, situating the boys back in their own beds, tucked safely under their blankets. Robin takes her hand and they stand together for a moment, her head resting on his shoulder, watching as their kids sleep soundly. 

“Come on,” she whispers, tugging on his hand to pull him toward the door. “We would watch them for hours, if we could, but it's time for bed.” 


	9. Chapter 9

“Regina, you can’t  _ actually  _ be serious right now. You’ve been cleaning for hours and the house is practically spotless. This is ridiculous, just talk to me. Stop being non-confrontational and tell me why you’re upset.” 

“What does it matter, Robin? You’re just going to keep making whatever decisions you want to, without consulting me first. There’s no reason for me to keep saying what I want to because you aren’t listening.” She’s furiously scrubbing at the floor now, dropped down to her hands and knees, the sponge moving back and forth, again and again over the tile. He can see that her hair is dropped down in front of her face and her hand holding herself against the ground is trembling, fingers tapping repeatedly against the tile. Her voice sounds watery, he can tell that she’s upset, and it eats at him inside. 

“But Regina, you won’t tell me what’s wrong, so how on earth can I fix it if you’re just ignoring me?” 

Her head spins and she glares at him, and he can see the tears in her eyes. “Why can’t you just help me protect them? Why do you insist that the boys continue to do things that are unsafe, even though you can see how I react?” 

“You’re—” he stops, his head tilting as he looks at her. “You’re mad that I took the boys camping? Seriously?” 

“See! That’s what I mean, that’s why there was no point in telling you what’s wrong with me. It’s fine.  _ I’m  _ fine. I’ll be over it later. You just go let the kids run free in the wild without fucking shoes or shirts or sunscreen, let them climb over things and break bones and eat poisonous shit while I stay home like the perfect little housewife and panic when you don’t answer and I think my family’s fallen off of a cliff.” 

Robin stops in the middle of their kitchen and stares at her, his gorgeous wife, who's now gone back to scrubbing at their floor and he can see the anger practically radiating off of her. 

“Regina,” he starts, kneeling down. He reaches a hand out to caress over her side but when he touches her she flinches away, glaring at him again. “There’s no danger in me taking the boys out on a few adventures. They were so sheltered for so long before they found us. I understand where you’re coming from, and I can assure you that there’s no danger in it. They’re just learning about the woods, about key survival skills.” 

“Our 8 and 5 year old do not need survival skills, Robin. They need to learn how to ride a bike, and hell, learn how to have parents that love and protect them.” 

“I do love and protect them,” he argues. “Regina, I need you to look at me. I’m not going to have this discussion with you while you’re staring at our floor.” 

She huffs and sits back, and he can see the red rim around her eyes. “Fine,” she growls. “What do you have to say?” 

He lets it roll off of him, understanding why she’s upset, how she can misconstrue his taking their boys on an adventure with something dangerous. It pains him to see her this worked up but she’s not been listening, and he needs to explain his reasoning before she starts to yell again. “It’s not dangerous, darling,” he starts. “There are so many chances that the boys have to come to work with me, to do something normal for once that doesn’t involve one of their parents getting high and passing out on the couch half naked. They’re getting to be kids, to go outside and have imaginations and play, and there is nothing dangerous about that. Why can’t you see that? What parts of this do you not want them to do?” 

She leans back against the cabinets and drops her head back, staring up at the ceiling. “So many things can happen to them. They’re so little, Robin, and we’re their parents. We can’t just let them run around, galavanting through the trees. What if one of them gets hurt?” 

“Do you think when we go out there I just let them run free, let them have full reign of the forest like they’re the lost boys? They’re with me the entire time, right by my side. If you had decided to come with us all those times that I’ve invited you, you would know that. I understand your concerns, I do, but I won’t let you go on thinking things that just aren’t true about what I’m teaching them. The boys love it out there, they aren’t upset or frightened. You need to come see that.” 

She shakes her head and he watches as her eyes close, and she wipes at the tears he thinks threaten to fall. “Going into the woods, staying the night in the woods… That isn’t something I can imagine I’d ever be able to do. You’d have to light a fire to see, and that alone just terrifies me. You know that.” 

He shifts across and reaches his hand out, leaving it open for her to take if she wants to. “Love, I’m not saying that you have to, but I don’t think you understand what we do out there. I’m teaching them.” 

“There are hills, water, fire, animals, and all of these other things that could hurt them.” 

“It’s the woods, you don’t need to tell me what’s out there. Not everything is dangerous.” 

She looks over at him and shakes her head, her hands trembling against her shins where they rest, her knees brought up to her chest with her arms wrapped around her legs. “Robin, I walked into my office one day to do some work and ended up hospitalized with burn marks all over my body. I tried to go to work, and I almost  _ died.  _ I’m not saying that life is always going to be safe, or that it’s remotely possible to keep them safe forever, but what’s the reason behind putting them in a situation where you can’t determine the outcome?” 

“You can’t determine the outcome in any situation in life, but we can’t shield them from everything.” 

Regina sucks in a breath and closes her eyes, shaking her head. “They lived such a hardship, for so long. I want to protect them. They— they’re just babies, Robin. So little, and so carefree. I want to make sure they’re safe all the time.” 

“We can’t do that. We can’t keep the boys in a bubble and lock them away forever. They were already raised in what was practically a prison, Regina. It’s our job as their parents now that we should raise them to be the best possible people they should be. We should teach them right from wrong, help them learn how to love and grow and give them as many positive experiences as we can.”

“But you can’t just do things without telling me,” she chokes out. “I want to know what they’re doing. I’m not saying that they can’t do anything fun, and if that’s how I’m coming off then I’m sorry. But, you have to meet me in the middle here. I want them to learn, and I want them to have a brilliant childhood, but I also don’t want anything to happen to them.”

“That’s why I’ve been inviting you! Come on, why are we spinning around in circles about this. It’s ridiculous.” 

She gets up, brushing off her capris and straightening her shirt. “This is exactly why I told you I didn’t want to talk about it. I can’t sit around here worrying all the time that something is going to go wrong because you’re being reckless, I’ll wake up one day and you boys will be gone forever, and that— it would break me.” She walks across the room and grabs her shoes from the basket next to their door. “There’s dinner in the refrigerator, you just need to heat it up,” she tells him, slipping her shoes on, her hand on the door handle. “Don’t wait up.”

Robin gets up right behind her, walking across the room as she heads for the front door. “Regina where are you going?” 

“I— I need a walk or some fresh air… Just— I’ll be home later. I promise,” she tells him, and he watches as she walks out and the door closes behind her. 

He hears Henry and Roland upstairs in one of the boy’s bedrooms, thankful that they seem to have not heard the argument that just happened between them. “Boys, dinner time,” Robin calls up, and the sound of feet pattering against the hardwood and down the staircase echoes through their home. 

.::.

She comes home about an hour later and steps into the bedroom, watching him while he lies in their bed, flipping through the book he’d bought the other evening. She can tell he’s not really reading it, just glancing at the pages of the book, looking over the pictures. There’s no way that he doesn’t know that she’s there, even with how hard he’s pretending to concentrate on the pictures, ignoring her. 

She deserves it though. She’s been an ass to him all day, her nerves going haywire on her emotions, and she should really apologize to him. He didn’t deserve to be her punching bag, and he tried to help her so many times and she was… a bitch. 

Regina coughs and he looks up once, his attention diverting right back down. “Hey,” he sighs, flipping another page. 

“Hey babe,” she tells him, her voice barely above a whisper. 

She shuts the door behind her and pads across the carpet through their bedroom, stopping at the end of their bed, staring down at Robin’s feet. “I’m sorry.” 

He looks up, opens his arms, and she climbs up, crawls across the bed to drop herself against him. His arm wraps around her back, the other coming over to cup her hip, his thumb drawing circles against her skin. “I’m sorry too, darling.” 

“I know that I overreact a lot, and that my… passion for different scenarios tends to make me a little more emotional in situations. But I...” she hesitates, her hand coming up to rest against his chest. “I love you boys so much that it hurts. I can’t fathom what life would be like without any of you.” 

“We love you too,” he starts, bringing his hand up from her hip to cup her jaw, tilting her head toward him so he can lean down and kiss her. “We love you more than anything. Whenever we go out into the camp the boys ask constantly why you aren’t there, why you don’t want to come with us. I would never force you to do anything, you know that. And I’m so sorry that’s how you’ve felt this whole time. That was never— is never going to be my intention when we go do something. Please understand that.” 

She nods, sitting up and resting her head on his shoulder. “I do know that. It’s why I’ve kept it to myself for so long. The three of you come back with the greatest stories, like you’ve been on this incredible adventure for months at a time in only a few days, and the boys  _ adore _ it. I love how you’re such an amazing father, how they worship the ground that you walk on, and I couldn’t imagine being such a paranoid ass and taking that away from you all.” 

Robin shakes his head and kisses the top of her hair. “You aren’t a paranoid ass. Stubborn, maybe, but not not paranoid or an ass. You’re a mother, and a fantastic one at that. We’ll take some time off from the camping, and maybe for a day you can come up and see what we do. You don’t have to sleep there, we’ll make sure we come home before dark. But at least let me show you what goes on and why the boys have so much fun. You’d love it, you really would.” 

Regina sighs and taps her fingertips lightly against his chest. “I don’t want to be a killjoy.” 

“Regina, look at me,” he tells her and she shifts, looking up at him. Robin reaches down and cup her cheek again, his thumb caressing over her cheekbone. “You are the furthest thing from a killjoy that I’ve ever met. Please, don’t ever think that about yourself.” 

“They don't have as much fun with me. I’m too overprotective, I have too many rules… I ruin their fun. They’re always happier when they’re with you.” 

“Is it because I’m… what’d you call me earlier, reckless? That you think that the boys want to be with me more?” He brings his hand down from around her and cups her ass, tugging her a little closer. “I don’t let them run free. I put sunscreen on them at least three times a day, they eat all their meals, and they learn all the important things they need to know. And as for their happiness, have you seen how they look at you? Roland talks about you non-stop whenever we go, about how he thinks you would have so much fun with us and how he wants to show you how to check the different types of plants. And Henry is so much quieter but he does talk about missing you when we sleep over, missing your stories before bedtime. Those boys adore you, darling, and if you doubt that I can give you thousands of reasons why you’re incredible.”

She shifts and brings her leg over, straddling his thighs as he situates himself against the headboard. Her hands press against his chest and she’s silent for a moment, tracing the patterned circles on his shirt. “I’m so sorry that I overreacted.” 

“I’m sorry I haven’t listened to you,” he tells her, his hands coming up to circle her hips. “If there’s another thing you’re upset about love, please tell me. I don’t want you to be hurt, and parenting is insane. We need to be even on all of these decisions here.” 

“I know,” she whispers, dropping her forehead to his. They stay like that for a moment and she focuses in on the feeling of his chest rising and falling with each breath, his soft hands against her course skin, tracing circles along the maps of her thighs, up the curve of her ass. She’s not sure who leans in first but her lips are against his—slow, methodical kisses that make her feel like she’s home. 

She nips at his bottom lip, drawing his skin carefully between her teeth and soothing it with her tongue, and his strong arms come around her, tugging her closer to him, her chest flush against his. 

His hands are splayed at her ribs, drawing her shirt up and up, over her head and he drops it beside him and his palms connect with her waist, gripping her hips to draw her even closer, her hips nestled against his growing erection. She huffs against him, circles her hips over where he’s hard beneath his sweatpants, and she brings her hands down to take the bottom of his shirt and pull it off of him. 

“You’re too good to me,” she tells him, her eyes drawn down to the gorgeous plain of his chest, her fingertips tracing over each curve and muscle. “You love me too much.”

“It’s impossible to love you too much darling,” he grins, his hand coming up to cup at her cheek, fingers tangling in her hair as he drags her down into a heated kiss. It’s slow but  _ oh, so good _ as he swirls his tongue over hers, making her sigh into him. His other hand comes up her back, deftly unhooking the clasp of her bra, drawing the straps down until it falls into their lap. She shucks it away when his hand comes between them, his palm cupping the swell of her breast, thumb rubbing tight little circles against her nipple. 

She gasps, her hips circling against him, his hard length between them. “Rob- _ in”  _ she sighs as he breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down her bare chest, his free hand splaying against her back to hike her up a little so his mouth is against her breast. He takes her nipple into his mouth, his tongue laving over her as she lets out these little moans. 

“Just let yourself feel,” he murmurs against her skin and  _ oh, _ she does, grinding her hips against him. She’s got herself lined up so that with each pass of her hips over his, her clit brushes against him, the little jolts coursing warmth through her body. He’s perfect, his hand twisting at one nipple, his mouth hot against the other before he switches. 

She brings her arms up and scratches her nails through his hair, holding him against her chest, her heart fluttering as he takes the hand at her back and slips it down, lower and lower until he’s cupping her ass beneath her shorts. 

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he growls against her skin, releasing her nipple with a  _ pop _ and shifting himself up to kiss at the smooth side of her neck, nipping at her collarbone then soothing it. “I’m so lucky you’re my fucking wife,” he tells her. Their bodies are impossibly close together and her heightened emotions just have her nodding, cupping his cheeks to tilt his head up to her so she can just kiss him, over and over, her perfect husband. 

She breaks the kiss on a gasp, panting a quiet, “I want you,” against his lips. 

It feels rushed but it’s still so slow after that as they peel what’s left of one another’s clothing off of each other. He’s worshiping her body with his hands and lips, pressing kisses against her skin as she shimmies the shorts off, trying desperately to get naked without climbing off of his lap. It’s easier for him as he shucks his pants off and she loses all thought for a moment when his hard length is displayed before her, laying against his lower stomach. 

She reaches down and wraps her palm and fingers around him, her thumb stroking carefully over his tip. Robin lets out a low groan and threads his fingers through her hair, drawing her closer to kiss her until they’re both breathless. “Fuck darling,” he growls, his free hand coming between them, the pads of his fingers against the slick wetness between her thighs. “You’re so wet, I want to taste you,” 

“No,” she shakes her head, her hand working him over slowly. “I want to feel you inside of me, stretching me, making me come.” 

He insists that he should work her up a little more so he circles his thumb over her clit, one finger working inside of her in a way that has her sighing, dropping her head to kiss his shoulder while she fucks him with her palm. He finally decides she’s ready and she guides him to her, the delicious stretch making her gasp as she takes his length inside of her. 

“Oh  _ fuck  _ you feel so good,” Regina sighs, her hands tight against his shoulders as he stretches her, his hands against her hips, working her body slowly over him until she’s fully sheathed around him. 

They stay like that for a moment, trading slow, lazy kisses as her body adjusts. He’s so good, so hard inside of her and she breaks their kiss, rocking her hips against him. She rises up slowly onto her knees and sinks down with a groan, her forehead pressed against his, eyes drawn down to watch as he disappears inside of her. It’s so good, so incredibly perfect that she can’t tear her gaze away. 

“Shit, love,” he groans, his hands tight against her hips, helping guide her against him. “You’re so tight, so fucking warm and slick…  _ hell _ I love you—”

“I love you too,” she moans as he hits the spot inside of her that shoots pleasure up her spine, the buzz of the beginnings of her orgasm rushing through her. 

He feels incredible and her pace picks up, her lips finding his in a heated kiss. She breaks from him to catch her breath, one hand coming behind her to brace herself as she leans back, her free hand coming up to card through her hair. 

“Oh  _ fucking _ hell, you’re brilliant,” he moans, and she watches him watch her circle her hips against his, his cock disappearing as he meets her thrust for thrust. She grinds down and her clit brushes over his pelvis, causing her to shudder, the air escaping her as she does it again and again. 

“I’m—I need to come,” she gasps, her back arching on one particularly hard thrust that he gives her. Her arms drop down and she puts her palms against his chest, holding him down to the bed with a mischievous grin. She fucks him in earnest now, crying out as he brings his fingers up to circle over her clit in tight, quick movements. 

“Come on love let me see you. Take what you need, anything that you need. I want to see you come, yes darling, that’s it,” he moans. 

Her hips stutter and he takes his free hand and grabs her waist, pinning her down as he bends his knees and props her forward a bit, fucking her deeply. 

“Oh, ah,  _ ah fuck me,”  _ Regina cries out, her arms trembling as her orgasm starts to build. She wants to wait for him, wants to come around her husband as he comes inside her but he feels so incredibly good inside of her and she’s not sure she can make it. 

“I need—come with me,” she gasps, her words sounding entirely more like a whine than she’ll ever admit. “Please babe, I want,  _ ohh,  _ I want—” she stops, her voice lost into a whimper when he draws the hand at her hip up her check, his forefinger and thumb pinching her nipple. 

“Let me…” he trails off, quickly pulling her down so her body is flush against his. The angle hits her just right and she groans deeply, burying her face into his shoulder, her palm smacking against his chest and he  _ fucks _ her so good. 

It’s a matter of seconds before she’s coming, her face buried into his chest to muffle the sounds of her orgasm. Everything explodes inside of her and he keeps going, hips meeting hers harder and harder until he groans into her ear and releases, spurting inside of her. She finds his lips in a messy kiss, her hand cupping his jaw, teeth and tongue clashing as she steals as many kisses from him as her breathing allows. It’s quick and rough and she feels his hand work it’s way between them, circling over her clit quickly, causing her leg to spasm against his side. She knows what he’s doing, drawing out her orgasm until it’s building up again, faster and faster until his free hand  _ smacks _ against her ass and oh,  _ god _ she’s coming around him again on a high-pitched cry. 

She collapses against him after that, her body spent, sweat slick between them. His arms come up around her and she can’t help the laughter bubbling through her, burying her face into his shoulder as she lets out a fit of giggles. 

“You sure know how to make a man feel wonderful after sex,” he laughs, his hand coming up to play with her hair as her laughter subsides and she sits up a little, arms helping her balance against his firm, warm chest. 

“I just—” she laughs again, smiling down at him. He’s perfect, truly, and she laughs again at how he really loves her, even after all these years, all the bullshit she’s put him through since he came up to her that fateful night in the bar. “I love you,” she grins, leaning down to kiss him again. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Robin sets up an non-intimidating camping trip with tents in the yard 
> 
> Thank you soooo much to grayautumsky for the adorable prompt!!

It’s not the first fight they’ve ever had and he’s sure that it won’t be the last, but the insecurities and fears that Regina felt safe enough to share with him have sat in his head for days, long after they’ve made up many,  _ many _ times. He tries to let them go, to understand his wife’s fear of fire and the unexpected are not going to change overnight and that he should just be there for her as she processes them, but he can’t get it out of his mind. 

It’s how he ended up here, working endlessly in their garage while Regina is at work. 

She’d been called in for a last minute meeting with someone important and the prospect of having the house free of her for a few hours had his mind reeling. They had told Henry and Roland of their mother’s fears behind camping, how they needed to tamp down their excitement before their trips and stop asking her to join them, when an idea sparked between the three of them. 

Henry had spoken up first while Regina had been at the store only a few days prior. 

_ “Hey Dad!” Henry yells, rushing into their living room, his socks slipping on the hardwood as he tries to catch himself. “I have an idea.”  _

_ “We both do!” He hears Roland yell and he laughs as the younger boy trips on the living room rug, jumping up quickly to join Henry and himself on the couch. “Henry didn’t come up with it all on his own.”  _

_ “I did most of the work, you just give little ideas.”  _

_ Roland starts to argue back with a, “No, I—” but Robin stops them both, putting an arm around each of his sons to tuck them in closer.  _

_ “Alright enough bickering. What’s your idea?”  _

_ “What if we set up a camping for Mom out in the yard? She likes it here and it’s safe, and we wouldn’t have to take her anywhere that would make her scared.”  _

_ “There would be no fire either,” Roland chimes in, his little rambunctious body squirming against Robin’s side. “Since she doesn’t like fire. We can use the porch lights!”  _

_ “And we can still sleep outside and do fun camping things,” Henry continues. “There’s no wild berries to eat but we can go to the store and get some, and have a big picnic at night.”  _

_ Robin takes in what they’re saying as the boys continue to describe their hypothetical evening, all the fun things they could plan and games they could play, and he agrees.  _

_ It’s perfect.  _

He’s only got about three hours of time before Regina is due home and he gets to work immediately after she leaves, recruiting the boys from their video games to help him get everything set up. 

He leaves the garage with bundles of string lights and a white sheet in hand and walks out the door, watching as Roland carefully lays out blankets on the grass and Henry works to unpack their family sized tent. 

“You boys doing good?” 

“Yeah!” they call out. Robin sets up the ladder, attaching the string lights to the tree limbs overhead and then connecting them to the house, as to cast a comfortable glow over their yard. He watches from the ladder as Roland diligently lays out their big blanket, working carefully to ensure that all of the corners are flat, trying his best to smooth out the blanket as well as he can. 

“You know Roland,” Robin chuckles, “We’re just going to sit on the blanket and bunch it all up. It’s not going to stay flat.” 

Roland scoffs and rolls his eyes, a dramatic trait that he picked up somewhere that always has them laughing at him, and he plops himself down in the grass, telling him “I know that. But Mom’s never been camping and…” he trails off. “She likes when things are pretty, and when they’re neat and tidy. I want her to like this too.” 

“She will like it,” Henry tells him, crawling across the grass to sit next to his brother. “I know that she will. She likes all the things we do.” 

Roland shakes his head. “Except that time we thought we could help by washing our fancy white shirts with our socks. She didn’t like that very much.”

“No she quite didn’t.” Robin tells them, climbing down off of the ladder and moving over by the fence to hang the sheet. “But I’m sure she’s going to love this. You boys had the best idea.” 

“You really think so?” Henry asks, and there’s just enough uncertainty in his voice that Robin walks over and pulls both boys up and into his arms, hugging them tightly. 

“I know so. She loves us all too much to get mad about this.” 

They work together to put up the tent after Robin hangs the sheet, and with just 40 minutes to spare they head back into the house to get the projector to watch a movie, and put the food for their picnic together. 

It’s all set up perfect in the matter of a few hours. Their picnic is perfect, and he’s proud of himself and the boys for being able to pull it off in such a short amount of time, all completely under her nose. 

His wife is nothing but cunning and resourceful. He’s never quite been able to surprise her fully—even on the night he proposed she confessed to him later in the evening, when they’d thoroughly exhausted themselves and were curled up beneath the comfort of her sheets, sweat drying against their skin, that she’d had a gut feeling that he was going to ask her to marry him. He tries constantly, to pull one over on her, to do something special without her knowledge but he’s yet to succeed and he’s hoping that, just maybe, tonight will be it. 

Regina’s due home in about five minutes. She called him when she left the office and got out her fury over her meeting, a habit they’ve both picked up to try and keep their work life separate from the boys. He lets her get out her frustration, promising that dinner’s already made and as soon as she gets home, there is nothing for her to worry about. 

He sees her headlights as she pulls into the driveway and the boys are up in a flash, darting across the room to peek their faces out at her between the curtains. Robin hears them whispering while he looks out back and makes sure the string lights are turned off, and it warms his heart to hear their sons reassuring one another that she’s going to love every bit of what they’ve done. 

The doorknob clatters and he hears it open and shut, hears the patter of the boys feet as they rush over to greet her at the door. 

“Hello my loves,” she tells them, kneeling down to collect both into her arms. “Did you boys have fun with Dad while I was gone?” 

“We have something to show you!” Roland gasps, his hand coming up quickly to cover his mouth. 

Henry giggles and follows up his brothers outburst with, “We may have done something out back.”

“We got the idea,” Roland continues, ducking his shy grin into her shoulder, “but Daddy put all of it together. I think he has  _ magic,”  _ He whispers, and she looks up at Robin and shoots him a silly grin. 

“Magic, you say? Well then, let’s just go see this magic for ourselves.” 

He’s so proud of himself, because the backyard is absolutely stunning. 

She’s speechless, watching as the string lights twinkle overhead, the auburn sunset changing the sky above them. The tent is pitched in the corner near her apple tree and there is a picnic basket on a blanket by the fence. He watches her carefully to see her reactions and each bit, every little detail she notices has her gasping, her eyes watering. The boys are staring at her too, hopeful faces looking for her reaction, and he loves them more than he thought possible. 

“It’s—” she gasps, turning to see him, and he loves the bright smile across her face. “This is beautiful.”

“We wanted to take you camping too!” Henry grins, wrapping an arm around her in a tight hug. “Dad said you didn’t want to go to the woods, but we wanted to bring the woods to you. Without all the scary stuff.” 

“I love it. So, so much, truly this is…” she trails off again. She wraps her arms around Henry and gives him a hug, pressing a kiss to the top of his head before doing the same to Roland. “You boys do too much for me.” 

“Nah,” Henry shrugs. “We just love you a whole lot.” 

She squeezes them tighter and pats them on the back, telling them to go inside to find a movie that they should watch under the stars. The boys excitedly accept their task and run off past him, rushing into the house and around the corner to the living room. 

His eyes fall back on his beautiful wife who grins from where she is, taking the hand he holds out to her so he can pull her up and into his arms. “So…” he starts, smiling at her. 

“You really put all this together?” She asks, her voice light, her hand coming up to curl softly around his neck. She stretches up onto her toes, having already kicked her shoes off by the door when she got home from work, and presses sweet kisses against his lips. “You’re a sap Robin Locksley, you know that?” 

“The boys had the idea, I just ran with it.” He wraps his hand around her waist and drags her as close to his body as he can, stealing a deep kiss from her before the boys come back. 

Her hands come up and cup his cheeks, her teeth nipping at his bottom lip, soothing over it with her tongue. He opens up to her and he can feel her sigh into the kiss, their tongues exploring one another. He prays somewhere in the back of his mind that the boys will be gone for a minute because their kiss is nothing but pure brilliance. He draws his hand up her side and tangles his fingers into her hair, holding her close as he growls into the kiss, sucking at her bottom lip, tilting her head just right, just how she likes so that she moans into his mouth. 

She pulls away for air and huffs out a breath against his cheek, her fingers coming up to card through his hair. “You shouldn’t have done all this,” she whispers against his skin, her lips pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “I would have come camping with you one day, sooner or later.” 

“This is entirely more fun. We’ve got the tent all set up with sleeping bags in it, and the boys have assured me that they picked out what they believe to be all of your favorite foods. I threw a few things for us in there too, a bottle of wine and grape juice for the kids so they feel included. And we can make s’mores too. It’s not a lot, and certainly not like actual ‘in the woods’ camping, but we… we wanted you to have a good night.” 

“I am already. This is—it’s really perfect.” She starts to speak again but the boys come bustling out of the house carrying a copy of  _ Tarzan _ and as many blankets as the two of them could carry. They run over and dump the blankets and pillows onto the one already set up on the grass. 

Roland runs back over and practically forces his little body between himself and Regina. “Come on guys! We need to get the picnic set up!” 

“Why don’t you and I do that with Henry while we let Mom go get changed out of her work clothes? I’m sure she doesn’t want to have to sit in the grass in her pretty dress.” 

Roland looks her up and down and Robin can feel her laughing from where he has his arm wrapped around her waist, his fingers curled at her hip. “That’s true,” their son says, patting his hands against her stomach. “Go change Mama, we can’t start without you.” 

“Okay, okay. I’m going,” she chuckles, pressing a quick kiss to Robin’s cheek before heading inside to change. 

Roland’s grabbing his hand as soon as Regina has her back turned, dragging him back over to the blanket. They set it up perfectly, taking out their dinner while Henry fiddles with the projector to turn on the movie. When his wife comes back out she’s dressed comfortably in a pair of shorts and a tank top, and it warms him at how comfortable she is. It only resonates with him from time to time, how the Regina he met all those years ago in a bar would never have thought this possible. 

He’s so blessed to be married to her. So lucky that he gets to call her his wife, gets to curl up beside her each night and tell her how much he loves her. She wears her scars with pride now, doesn’t shy away from them in front of him or their sons. It was something that worried him when they adopted the boys, that the progress she made to be comfortable would recede when there were new people in the house, but thankfully she didn’t hide it from them long. She wasn’t quick to tell them everything, and even still the dark parts of her accident are kept a secret between the two of them, not something that their boys ever need to know. But he loves how  _ herself _ she is around them, around him. She’s far from the shy, quiet-natured woman that she describes herself as. She is fierce, a strong warrior of a mother. She loves so deeply, with each part of her body and soul and he knows that Henry and Roland feel it. It shows through in their actions toward her, just as tonight’s ‘camping’ experience has. 

She strides across the grass and sits down on the blanket, reaching next to her to pull Henry into her lap, peppering kisses to the back of his head. She whispers something to him that he can’t quite make out, but Henry blushes and ducks his head, nodding and whispering something back to her. She drops a kiss to their son’s forehead and she snuggles him close, turning her attention back toward their spread. “So, what do we have here?” 

“We all have some cold cuts for each of us, and then the boys picked some berries that we could find out in the forest.” 

“I like blackberries, but Roland likes the blueberries,” Henry chimes in. “But we put in some chips too, the ones in the blue bag that you like. And then Dad added in some other things, but the best part is…” he trails off, rummaging through the basket before pulling out a jar of marshmallow fluff. “S’mores! With no fire though, so we got fluff. Is that okay?” 

Robin looks to her and she’s smiling again, tightening Henry into a hug, reaching her free hand out to ruffle Roland’s hair. “It’s absolutely perfect.” 

They spend the night beneath the stars laughing and carrying on, watching their movie and working their way a bit into a second before Roland and Henry are fast asleep. Roland’s in her lap now, his heavy body settled against her and his head on her chest, while Henry sleeps along the blanket with his head on her thigh. 

“So, what do you think of camping?” he asks, careful to not wake the boys.

Regina smiles and leans over as best as she can, kissing him once, her hand clasped over Roland’s back to hold him steady. “It’s more like ‘glamping’ if you ask me, but I will say I’ve had a wonderful time. This is… so incredible. Truly, amazingly perfect. I love you.” 

He smiles and leans over to kiss her again, his hand coming up to cup her cheek as he passes his lips over hers. He breaks their kiss and runs his thumb over her scarred cheekbone, carefully caressing her skin. “I love you too darling. I’m more happy than anything that we actually pulled off a surprise for you.” 

She tilts her head into his hand and closes her eyes, taking in a deep breath. “You won’t do it again. I’ll be on the lookout,” she laughs. They fall into a comfortable silence and he watches her as she looks up at the stars, mapping the gorgeous lines of her face, while their sons sleep, curled up in the safety and comfort of her lap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! If you have any prompts you'd like to see in this verse, I'd love to hear them!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt- Regina and Robin experience a pregnancy scare 
> 
> A huge thank you to LPsDiamond1 for the prompt!!

This can’t be real. There is a nausea settling in her stomach, one that brings her to her knees and had the tears bubbling up. She covers her mouth with the palm of her hand, her other arm wrapped around her stomach, chest heaving as she holds back her tears, trying desperately to catch her breath. 

The little strip is pink and this… this  _ can not _ be happening. 

It was their own fault for not being more careful. They knew that it wasn’t safe for her to conceive, the risk was too high and while she desperately wants a child she also values her life so much, having been so close to losing it once already. She wants terribly to be a mother again but she doesn’t want to  _ die.  _

She can’t tell Robin. Oh god, he’ll be so excited and so heartbroken and no,  _ no  _ she cannot get his hopes up like that only to crush them, stomp them down with the heel of her shoe and lock herself away like the terrible person she’d be to take that from him. 

She reaches up to the counter, having slumped down against the bathroom cabinet, her knees tucked to her chest, tears silently falling down her smooth and scarred cheek. Her hand wraps around her phone and she pulls it down, knocking into the stupid pregnancy test so that it falls down into the bowl of the sink, clattering against the metal frame of the drain. 

Regina brings up Mal’s number, pushing violently at her phone, the panic and nausea rising in her chest when the phone rings and rings, and her best friend’s voice echoes in the small room. 

“Hey honey,” Mal lets out and Regina gets mad at herself more for dragging someone into this, her own stupid mistake, and she can’t help when she chokes out a sob. “Woah Regina, what’s wrong? Are you hurt? Breathe honey, breathe.” 

“I—pregnant,” she gasps, unable to stop the tears.

“Okay, okay Regina calm down. I’m leaving work now, I’ll be to your house in a few minutes. Don’t hang up the phone and  _ keep breathing, _ you understand me? I’ll not have you passing out. Have you called Robin?”

She shakes her head, only momentarily forgetting that Mal can’t actually see her before she tells her, “No, and please don’t call him. I’ll—”

“You’ll be okay, I know you and you know you’re allowed to let your husband comfort you, right? He’s going to understand Regina, he knows the risks.” 

“I— I have to tell him,” Regina let’s out through her tears, “but not yet. Please not yet, I can’t.” 

She can hear something rustling on the other end of the line and Regina recognizes the sound of her front door opening and closing, hears Mal’s high heels against her staircase. The bathroom door opens and Regina looks up, sees the pity she doesn’t deserve etched across Mal’s face. 

“Oh darling,” Mal coos, kicking off her heels and dropping down onto the bathroom floor next to her. Regina’s head drops to her shoulder and she feels the tears come again. “You have options.” 

“We’ve been so careful for so long,” she whispers. “It’s been so busy chasing the boys around between camps and end of the school year activities. We— the shot wasn’t working right for me, I kept getting sick and my periods were  _ awful  _ so I decided to switch. I kept putting off making my appointment because we’re so busy all the time and I thought— well we both know Robin and I have a hard time keeping our hands to ourselves.”

“Pretty sure my eyes are still scarred from the time I walked in on the two of you at my Halloween party last year,” Mal chuckles. 

Regina blushes and ducks her head. “And it’s so hard now finding time to ourselves not with having kids, so when we get time—”

“You’re married honey, you don’t need to justify having sex with your attractive husband.” 

Regina blushes and ducks her head, running her fingers through her hair. “He is great, isn’t he?” 

Mal laughs and reaches over, taking Regina’s hand into her own. “How long have you put your appointment off?” 

“Um,” she lets out, grabbing her phone and pulling up the calendar. She scrolls, counting the weeks since her last appointment, and she grimaces at her own stupidity. “I was supposed to go in the beginning of May.” 

“And it’s now June 10th, so you haven’t been on birth control in almost a month.” 

“I’ve had this odd stomach feeling for the past week now, like I’ve been on a boat. It’s been awful. I thought it was that stomach bug that Roland had, but he got over it in a few days and I’ve been sick for almost a full week now. I missed my last period too which… they’ve been so regular since the shot.” 

“And the test was positive?”

Regina stretches her arm up and fishes around in the sink until she feels the test, grabbing it to show Mal. 

“Woah,” Mal whispers, staring at it. “You have to tell Robin.” 

“I know,” she groans, “I don’t know how he’s going to feel though. I mean, we wanted a baby for so long and this past January we were blessed with two incredible, perfect children. I don’t know if he wants a third. And besides it’s so dangerous. The doctors already said so, and now I can’t… Mal what do I do?” 

“I can’t tell you that dear,” Mal chides, squeezing her hand. “All I can tell you is that you know there are options, but you’ve got to discuss them with Robin.”

“You’re no help, you know that?” Regina chuckles. Her breathing has returned back to normal, her heart calmed down, and though the panic is still swirling through her brain and her stomach, she feels worlds better than she did an hour ago. “What if…” she trails off, dropping her head back down to Mal’s shoulder. “What if  _ I  _ want to have a baby?” 

“Your doctors said it was possible, right? Just dangerous?” 

She nods, her eyes closing. “They said that I could, but it’s not safe. The risk is so high and I’d have to be so monitored and practically on bedrest for most of it. The skin that’s burned can’t stretch correctly, so there’s physically not enough space to hold a baby. I— I should take another test. What if I’m wrong?” 

“Why don’t you call your doctor and have them check with a blood test? If it is positive it’s better to be there when you find out for sure, without having to panic. They can help you through it and tell you what needs to happen for you to do this the safest way possible if you choose to have the baby.” 

“I will…” she trails off, sitting up, her back resting against the door. “I do have to tell Robin though.” 

Mal nods, patting her leg. “You have to. He is your husband and while I understand why you’re afraid, you do need to give him a choice in all of this Regina.” 

.::. 

She hears the front door open and close a few hours later, and her heart falls to the pit of her stomach. Mal left over an hour ago, helped her clean herself up and they worked together to make a lasagna that Regina had promised the kids for dinner. Roland and Henry both yell their  _ ‘hellos’ _ and she hears them drop their backpacks and rush up the staircase, their bedroom door closing and the telltale sign of their too-loud video game echoing from the air vents. 

Robin comes into the kitchen and curls his arm around her waist, pressing a chaste kiss to her neck. “Hello darling,” he whispers, his thumb tracing circles over her hip bone. “How was your day?” 

“It was… interesting,” she smiles, shifting in his arms. She drapes her arms over his shoulders and leans in, pressing her forehead to his. “I found something out today, I think— I’m not sure how you’re going to like it.” 

“Darling, if it has to do with you, I’m sure I’ll like it. You,” he pulls back some, his palm cupping her cheek, stopping her from ducking her head how she so desperately wants to. “You look upset though. What’s wrong?” 

She shakes her head, giving him a soft smile before leaning in to kiss him, her fingers playing with the strands of his hair at the nape of his neck. “Nothing. I just— we’ll talk about it later, okay? I don’t want to have this conversation when the boys could overhear.” 

He looks confused and she already feels bad, feels  _ awful  _ for hiding this from him for even the few mere hours that she’s known. He deserves better than her in so many ways and she hates that still, after three years of knowing one another, even with being married with two kids, she still feels like he could do so much better than her. He tells her a quiet  _ ‘okay’  _ and kisses her scarred cheek, then her temple, and finally her forehead. 

“I’ll go get the boys cleaned up from school and check their backpacks. You take a second, okay? Yell when you’re ready for us to come down.” 

“You’re too good to me,” she smiles, patting his cheek once before he steps away from her. 

“Nonsense,” he laughs, stealing a quick kiss from her before he turns. “You deserve the best, love.” 

He’s gone before she can respond, up the steps and calling out to their boys, and she can feel her heart clenching, the tight grip that has her digging her fingers into her countertop, her breath coming out unsteadily. She collects herself within seconds and she says a silent  _ ‘thank you’  _ to her understanding husband. She’s felt on the verge of a panic attack since the little strip turned pink, and the moment Robin stepped into their home she thought she was going to snap, that the bile would rise and she would throw up on the floor. When his arm wrapped around her though and she took in that deep, forest smell that always radiates from him, she finally felt at home. He’s always been her rock, her favorite person since the day she met him, and it pains her to think that she’s keeping something from him, holding back something that could change their lives forever. But she doesn’t want to scare the boys, and she’s not quite sure how he’s going to react, so she takes in a deep breath and puts on a brave face, her impending panic attack turning productive as she sets the dining room table and plates the lasagna. “Dinner!” she calls out a few moments later, and she hears the patter of the boys footsteps against the stairs as they come down, both of them running up and hugging her. 

“You listened!” Roland cheers when he sees the table, hugging her again. “You made us the lanasna,” he stutters, his face scrunching up. “That word is hard.” 

She chuckles and ruffles his hair, smiling down at him. “You’ll get it one day. Did Dad have you two wash your hands?” 

They nod and she eyes Henry once, her eye squinting, but he promises that they listened. “Go sit, then. You two can start eating, Dad and I will be there in a moment.” 

“Come on Roland,” Henry says, taking his brother’s hand. 

She waits ‘til they’re gone and sneaks a chaste kiss from Robin while he pours them two glasses of wine. “Thank you,” she whispers, her lips brushing over his, taking her glass from his hand before making her way into the dining room, joining in on their son’s conversation about the best superheros. 

Henry and Roland insisted on having a sleepover tonight, begged after dinner to be allowed to sleep in Henry’s big bed and she couldn’t tell them no, so before bed Roland scampered into his room and got his big Hawkeye blanket and his stuffed Hulk off of his bed and drug them down the hallway, into Henry’s room. She and Robin set up both of the boys in the bed and Regina tucked Henry in under his Gryffindor blanket, his stuffed Hedwig secured tight in his arms. The boys are now fast asleep in Henry’s bed, little bodies full of lasagna and ice cream and curled around their favorite stuffed animal, chests rising and falling with each steady breath.

Robin has cleaned up the kitchen while she made her way upstairs, changing into her pajamas. She takes the pregnancy test out of the drawer in their bathroom that she’d hidden it in and sits on the edge of the bed, waiting for him to come up. She can hear him coming up the stairs and with each soft  _ tap _ of his feet against the hardwood she can feel the panic rising, the bile working its way up her throat, threatening to come out. She can’t throw up now, she won’t— but god does she want to. 

“Hey, so today at work they—” he comes in, rounding the corner through the door in their bedroom. His eyes fall immediately down to her hands and she bites her lip as he stares for  _ so long _ at the pregnancy test that sits heavily in her hands. “Is that…” 

“I’m so sorry,” she chokes out and the tears come faster than she can even attempt to stop them, pouring down her cheeks, falling off of her chin and to her lap. “I didn’t realize that I was so far past my birth control and we had  _ such _ a good night when the boys stayed with Mal. I thought it was the stomach bug that Roland had but I did the math, and I hadn’t gotten my period and something just didn’t feel right, but I was hoping that—” 

He’s in front of her in an instant, and he takes the test out of her hands and tosses it onto the bed next to her. His hands come up and he pulls her against his chest, wrapping his arms tight around her into a hug, one hand cupping the back of her head. “It’s okay,” he whispers and it makes the tears come more, seeping into his shirt. “Don’t cry love, it’ll be okay. We…” he sucks in a breath and she shudders when she can feel his own tears falling into her hair. “We’ll get through this.” 

They stay there like that for so long, bodies pressed to one each other. She doesn’t know what to do, craves to know what he’s thinking, if he wants to keep their baby or not. 

“I know we talked about it before,” she starts, pulling back just barely so she can look at him, “It’s so dangerous for me to carry to full term but what if we just listened to the doctors? They have studies of women who this has happened to before. What if we just listen to them before we make any decisions? This— for so long we thought this wasn’t possible that we could even get pregnant and now, this is our miracle.”

He sucks in a breath and kisses her forehead, the soft press of his lips to her skin making her shudder, her eyes falling closed. He seems so calm but she lifts her hand and presses her palm to his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat beneath her skin. “I don’t want us to make any decisions now either,” he agrees. “But darling, we’ve got to look at this realistically. If it came down to a choice between keeping you or—” 

“Don’t,” she cuts him off, shaking her head. “Please don’t say it. Let’s just… I want to go to the doctor first, okay?” 

“Okay,” he nods, cupping her cheek and kissing her. She breathes him in, pushes her emotions down and pours herself into him, each fear and worry coursing its way through her heart locked away has she kisses him. 

They finally part and crawl into bed, settling close together under the covers. Regina curls onto her side, her head pressed against his chest, palm resting over his now calm heart, and as she falls asleep her free hand drifts to her abdomen and settles over her flat-planed stomach. 

.::.

She’s calmed down significantly over the past few days, her emotions pushed back down and bottled up where they belong. She isn’t proud of it, of her quick compartmentalization and the front she puts up in front of everyone that she encounters, but they already see her as weak and it’s no one else's business. 

She scheduled her appointment for this afternoon, feigning illness to Mr. Blanchard as to not raise suspicions, and strides out of the office after lunch, giving Mal a nod as she slips out of the door and walks to her appointment. She had her blood drawn a few days prior, had sat in the sterile room at the lab with a band wrapped tightly around her bicep, squeezing her fist tight as the kind nurse drew her blood. 

Robin meets her outside the doctor’s office and she slips her hand into his. “You ready for this?” she asks, looking over at him. He looks frightened and she can’t help but feel the same, awful unsettling feeling in her stomach, the uncertainty of the events before them that could change their lives forever looming over her every thought. 

“As ready as we’ll ever be.” He squeezes her hand and they head into the office and up to the receptionist. Regina signs in and a few minutes later the nurse takes them back and gets them situated in a room, then leaves them to themselves. Robin is pacing in the tiny office, his eyes fixated on the floor, and she watches as he turns back and forth, back and forth across the tiles. 

“You’re allowed to be nervous,” Regina tells him, picking at the cuticle of her nail. “There’s so much we both have to be nervous about.” 

“I don’t think that we should keep the baby,” he blurts out, and she watches as a pained look comes across his face. “I really don’t. I’ve thought about it since you told me and this isn’t worth it. I would absolutely love for us to have another child but it’s not worth the risk. If it came between a pregnancy and you, I’d choose you. I’ll always choose you.” 

Her heart shatters and she looks at him, astonished. “This is what we’ve wanted though, for  _ so _ long. It’s not like we can just brush this opportunity aside and act like it never happened. I love you too, more than anything, but Robin look at what’s been handed to us. What kind of people, what kind of  _ parents _ are we?” 

“The ones who already have two sons at home. Two boys that love us unconditionally. We’ve talked about this for years. We talked about adoption. We were both perfectly happy with adopting the boys. What’s changed all that now?” 

“Nothing has changed that! I love Henry and Roland so  _ fucking _ much. But this,” she pauses, waving her hand over her body, “I can figure it out. I know my body and I know what I can handle.” 

“You don’t know more than doctors, Regina. I’m sorry, but I can’t agree with this. I would love another child, especially a baby, but I can’t agree with risking your life to bring a child into this world. Not when it could take you out of it. It’s not just us anymore though,” he tells her, shaking his head. “We have two sons who adore you and we’ve just given them the family that they’ve always deserved. Who are we to even risk taking that away from them now?”

She’s felt this pent up energy for days since they’ve been awkwardly dancing around one another, putting off the conversation they should have had in their home and not in a doctor’s office. She goes to tell him off, to continue the argument, but the door opens and Doctor Whale walks in with a clipboard in hand. 

“Afternoon Mr. and Mrs. Locksley,” he smiles, and she side-eyes Robin, schooling her face quickly into an expression of neutrality. 

“Good afternoon Doctor,” she nods, shifting so that her hands rest beneath her legs to keep her from picking at her nails. “Did the bloodwork come in?” 

He nods and his face changes, eyes cast downward to the clipboard. He’s silent for a second, flipping through the pages. There’s a crinkle of the papers as they rub and it replays over and over in her mind as she goes numb to his words. 

Not pregnant. 

She doesn’t speak as Robin’s arm wraps around her, as he whispers apologies into her hair and Whale encourages her to schedule her appointment for the IUD. She doesn’t speak when they get into the car and Robin call’s Mal, telling her the news and asking if she’ll pick the boys up from school and keep them at her house for the night. It’s eerily quiet in her head when Robin helps her inside and strips her out of her work clothes, changes her into a pair of yoga pants and one of his sweatshirts and settles her on the couch with a kiss to her forehead while he makes dinner. 

It’s hours before she finally musters up the courage to say anything and she hates her thoughts before the words even come out. 

“You got what you wanted.” 

He turns in the kitchen and she can see out of her peripherals how he stares at her. The tears are pooling when she turns her head and looks at him, the pained, broken look he gives her making her shudder. 

“You really think I’m happy about this?” 

She sniffles, brushing the back of her hand against her cheeks and climbing off of the couch to join him in the kitchen.“I mean, you should be relieved, you don’t have to worry about our lives changing, whether good or bad. Things will just continue on as they always have.” 

Robin rolls his eyes and looks at her, his own tears threatening to fall. “You’re not speaking rationally and I’m just— I don’t want to fight you on this too Regina. Dinner will be ready in a little bit.” 

“Come on now,” she pushes, leaning back against the counter, her arms crossed over her chest. “You’re telling me you aren’t just a little bit relieved?” 

“You’re telling me that you aren’t? Dammit Regina, you want to know? No, no I’m not happy.” He turns toward the kitchen counter and grabs the dish towel, wringing it in his hands. Their steaks are cooking in the oven and he’s got potatoes in a pot on the stove, the water threateningly close to boiling over. She can see his hands shaking, the anger he’s trying to subdue threatening its way out. His voice goes deeper and he sinks his head, his hand balling into a fist. 

“Do I want you to go anywhere? No. Did I really want you to go through with a pregnancy that could kill you? No! But have I had dreams for the past week of Henry and Roland running around in the yard while you were playing with a little toddler with your eyes and my smile? Yes.” He turns and looks at her and she bites her lip, eyes meeting his and watching his anger as it dissipates into emotions and his tears begin to fall. “There were so many dreams of you with a little girl wobbling on unsteady legs, taking her first steps across our front porch, walking from me to you. Dreams of her growing up, learning how to ride a bike and hold her own against her brothers. I’m allowed to be relieved that you’re not setting yourself up to possibly die, but don’t think for a second that I’m  _ happy _ about this.” He’s practically shaking now, the tension between them thicker than she wants. She’s so hurt though, so lost in her mind to all of the possibilities of a life that could have been, a child with her hair and his dimples and bright smile bringing another beautiful light into their lives. 

She stares at him for a few moments before she turns and rests her elbows on the counter, dropping her head to her hands. “I had them too,” her voice cracks, her eyes shut tight. “God, I had so many dreams that felt so  _ real,  _ like she was already here and in our arms. Every day this week I’ve woken up and wondered why this had to happen this way? Why couldn’t things have been different for me? For us? They were so good while I was asleep but god, when I woke it felt like a nightmare.” She’s crying now, the tears streaming down her cheeks. She wants to seek out his comfort, to curl up in his arms and tell him about all of her insecurities that are constantly at the brinkg of boiling over but it’s not fair to either of them. They’re both hurt and so lost, and she can’t help but share her feelings with him when she sees he’s just as upset as she is. “I’ve been dealt so many shitty hands my entire life until you and things were so good,  _ so _ good until we realized I couldn’t get pregnant. And then we found the boys and it was good again and now this. It’s like the universe looks at us whenever we’re good and happy and throws another wrench in it to fuck things up again. We don’t deserve this. We deserve to be happy.”

“We  _ are  _ happy. There’s always going to be obstacles that try to push between us but we’re going to get through it, all of it. Every step, every push, every heartache that hits us, we can get through it. This one just hurts worse. But it doesn’t mean that I’m not upset about what happened today, darling. It’s been one of the worst days we’ve had together, in a long time. But that doesn’t mean that we won’t wake up tomorrow and hug our boys, and move on from this.” He turns from the stove and walks toward her, hovering behind her. She doesn’t turn but she can feel his body heat and his hand resting on the small of her back. “I’m sorry,” he whispers and she turns, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug. 

“I’m sorry too. So sorry, really. I’ve been awful all week.” 

“I haven’t been any better. But this isn’t one of those black or white decisions, and I’m not sure that we’ll ever know exactly what we should have done. And unless we have another scare we probably won’t ever know. I’m all for expanding our family if we want to, just like we talked about. But not if it means risking you.” 

She runs her fingers through her hair and turns, leaning against the counter. Her body is so close to his, the heat radiating off of him. “We’re never going to agree on this, are we?” 

“We may not,” he nods, stepping to her. His body is flush against her front and she grabs his hip, tugging him to her, just enough so his warmth sleeps through his clothing and wraps around her, his scent making her calm. “This can be one of those things that you and I never really see eye to eye on and that’s fine. It’s normal. But I don’t want it to be something that looms over our heads until we can’t stand the thought of it. That’s not fair to either of us.”

“I was selfish to think that I can be invincible. It’s not fair to you, and especially not fair to the boys for me to think so carelessly. Whale said that the test was a false positive, so there was no pregnancy to begin with. But still, I don’t want to be that careless about it any more. This,” she waves her hand in what little space has formed between them before resting her hand on his chest, over his heart. “This isn’t something that I want to risk. I love our life, and I love our kids. I’m well aware that everyday is different, and awful things can happen at anytime to anyone, but you’re right. I shouldn't risk myself for a chance.” 

He kisses her then and they both forget about the pot of boiling potatoes as the water spills over the edge of the lid and evaporates into the air. He’s got her pinned to their kitchen island and she sighs as they trade slow kisses, taking all of him in. She isn’t proud of the fact that they’ve chosen distraction over finishing their conversation but he’s so warm against her. Kissing him is her safe-haven, the one constant in her life that centers her and brings her home. 

She tilts her head and brings her hand up to grip at his biceps, her thumbs brushing tight circles against his muscle. The other hand comes up and threads through his hair, holding him in place against her. Robin pulls himself away minutes later and tucks a fallen strand of hair behind her ear, his thumb tracing soothing circle against her temple. 

“I’m not saying the possibility is off the table completely. But until there are more medical advances, or until we find a doctor that can guarantee that nothing dangerous is going to happen to you if you are pregnant, I don’t want us to have to risk it. I’ll do whatever I need to do to make sure of that. We can talk to the doctor about me getting a vasectomy and then—” 

“You don’t have to get a vasectomy,” she tells him, running her fingers through her hair. “I’ll go back next week and get the IUD put in. It’s entirely more effective and less of a chance for me to get too busy and completely forget about it.” She sucks in a deep breath and drops her head to his shoulder, exhaling slowly. “It’s been such a long day.”  

He nods and looks down, his hand slipping down her side and tangling his fingers with hers. “Let’s just eat dinner then go lay in bed and watch movies. We’ll pick up the boys from Mal tomorrow morning and take them somewhere fun, maybe to the children’s museum in Mist Haven and let them get all sugared up with ice cream and popcorn. They’ll love it.” When she nods he continues, squeezing her hand. “Even though we didn’t come to an agreement this isn’t something that I want to bring us down.” 

“Neither do I,” she whispers, squeezing his hand back. “Tomorrow’s a new day though.” 

“Right,” he pulls away from her, pulling plates down from the cabinet and setting them on the counter as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. As if the past week hadn’t turned their thoughts and feelings upside down and strewn them all over like dirty laundry. He’s right though, this is already past them and they’re on the road to healing all of those anxieties that she never wants to admit. “Tomorrow will be a new day.” 

It takes time for them to heal, as a family. Regina spends her mornings outside on their porch, taking in the morning sun, the multiple possibilities that a new day holds, while Robin finds comfort in spending time with their sons, building relationships with the boys. It’s not easy and it takes them both longer than they wanted to admit how upset they truly were by the scare of a possible pregnancy, but as the days carry on and their summer begins, they both end their days a little less broken, and a little more whole.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regina, Robin, Henry and Roland play Mario Kart

They’re well into the middle of summer when Henry and Roland begin to explore the house more than they already have. Their house isn’t empty by any means but when she and Robin moved from their small apartment into the house, they never got around to unpacking everything like they should have. 

Regina’s busy in the kitchen making dinner when she hears a crash, and Henry’s voice yelling “Roland, look!” coming from upstairs. She should go up there but she gives them a second, waiting to hear if someone is crying. Instead, she hears Roland’s voice echoing through the hall, an inquisitive, “Oh  _ sweet,  _ what is that?” that has her dropping the knife and the apple in her hand and heading quickly up the steps. 

She stands at the bottom of the attic steps and looks up, “What have you boys gotten yourselves into?” she asks, her hands on her hips. They both peek over the ladder, their dark hair coming up first. Roland’s hair covers his sheepish grin and Henry’s got that tell-tale blush he gets when they’re in something they shouldn’t be, and it makes her step closer, climbing up the first rung of the ladder. 

“N-nothing,” Henry shakes his head. “We were looking for more blankets and one of the boxes fell a little and opened up, that’s all.” 

“Henry found a box with a bunch of controllers in it!” Roland yells, and Henry shoves him in the shoulders and whispers for his brother to  _ “shut up”.  _

“Don’t hit your brother,” she chides, climbing further up the ladder. “Now, scoot over and let me see the mess you two have made up here.” 

They both grumble a quiet, “Sorry Mom”, and move back. She climbs up into the attic and sees the open box and Robin’s Nintendo 64 components sprawled out across the floor. “Oh,” she laughs, crawling across the floor before sitting in front of the open box. “That’s your dad's old video game systems. Gosh, we haven’t used those in years.” 

“Why not?” Roland asks, crawling over and climbing up into her lap. She tucks an arm around his waist and scoots him back, her almost 6 year old. “There’s Mario games in there. Henry and I like Mario!” 

“Dad and I did too, still do. We just got so busy when we moved and you boys got here that we must have forgotten all about them.” She lifts the controller and Roland takes it from her, turning it in his hands. 

“It’s way bigger than our other controllers,” he whispers. “And how do you hold it?” 

“Well,” she starts, carefully laying her hands over his, maneuvering his hands so he’s holding the controller. Henry climbs over the mound of blankets they’d already set aside and watches, picking up the games and flipping them over in his hands. “You just do this, and then you can hold it differently depending on which games you play. But we mostly have games like—”

“Mario Kart!” Henry yells, spinning around to look. “Mom! Mom can we play? Please?” 

She smiles and nods, laughing as the boys cheer and scramble up, collecting all of the things from the box. They climb down and she carefully maneuvers herself and the box down the ladder, watching as they rush down the steps and toward the TV, sitting on the couch and practically bouncing on the cushions. They’re chattering behind her, talking about how excited they are to play “new” games. It’s adorable how excited they are and she hears the front door open and close, Robin’s keys hitting the counter. 

“In here!” she calls out, kneeling down to plug in the console. 

Henry and Roland both jump up and rush across the living room, yelling at him that they found something new to play with and they’re  _ so excited _ and he has to play with them. 

Robin catches them both in his arms, lifting them onto his hips with an over-exaggerated groan. “What is it that you two are yelling about?” he asks, walking into the living room. She glances over her shoulder and smiles at the excitement that comes over him when he sees the Nintendo 64 on the ground. 

“No way, they found it?” 

“It’s been in the attic all this time,” she laughs. “They were snooping for blankets earlier and found the box. I figured it doesn’t hurt to set it back up. I have to finish dinner though before it burns, can you take over?” 

He nods and she stands, stealing a kiss from him when he sets the boys down. Robin takes her hip and holds her there for a moment, kissing her again, a smile spreading between the two of them. “Good day?” he asks, looking over her shoulder at their son’s on the couch. It’s been an interesting first summer having kids. Regina and Robin both altered their schedules for work so that one of them was home with the boys, and on the days where they both worked Ruby would come over and spend time with them, making sure that they’re both safe. Tempers have risen between both boys though and it took her time to realize that this is the first structured summer they’ve had, with bedtimes and rules, and  _ not _ Henry raising his little brother on his own. 

“They only bickered once, but it was nothing compared to the other ones. They’ve been in the attic exploring most of the day.” 

“Good,” he grins, kissing her again. He squeezes her hip and she brushes past him, dropping a fleeting kiss to his cheek before she heads back into the kitchen. 

She listens, laughing as her husband gets both of the boy’s riled up over the game. He teaches them how to play and it warms her heart, the excitement in their voices, the wonder that they both exude when he turns the console on and lets them pick their characters. Regina takes the chicken out of the oven to cool and heads back into the living room, smiling at the sight before her. 

Robin is in the middle of the couch, with Henry and Roland on their side of him. They all have controllers in their hands and she laughs at the concentration on all on their faces. Roland’s little tongue is sticking out, his eyebrows are furrowed and she can see that he’s obviously losing, though both Henry and Robin are pouring out encouragements for him. 

She walks around the back of the couch and scooches them over, lifts Roland into her lap and presses a kiss to the back of his head. “Can I help?” she whispers to him and he nods, not breaking concentration. Her hands cover his on the controller, not letting him feel as if he’s not doing it alone but guiding his fingers, helping him and Toad get back onto the course. 

Robin, who consistently plays as Yoshi and has argued for years that  _ ‘he’s the best character’   _ zooms past them once more, and Henry trails just behind them, playing as Mario. Roland’s not too far behind them and she has the sneaking suspicion that her husband and son aren’t playing as well as they would had the youngest Locksley not been with them, because Roland isn’t as bad off as she suspects. 

He passes Luigi and Roland cheers, his little body squirming against her lap. “Mom did you see, I did it!” 

“Good job baby,” she whispers, kissing the back of his head. She doesn’t look away from the television, helps him guide his hands so he drives past Henry’s character, gaining speed. They pass through the finish line and into the third round of the race, and Henry skids past them with a triumphant  _ “Yes”.  _

It’s not as bad as it was before, and they finish the race with Robin in first, Henry in third, and Roland close behind in fourth. Her boys are both  _ so  _ excited though, cheering, asking Robin if they can race again, and it warms her heart. Roland turns in her lap and looks up, his sweet, brown eyes looking up at her. 

“Momma I lost,” he whispers, tucking his head into her neck. He’s not upset, she can tell that much, he’s more embarrassed than anything else. She tucks an arm protectively around him and leans down, his brown curls brushing her cheeks. 

“Want to know a secret about Daddy?” she asks, eyeing Robin over the little boy’s head. Robin grins at her and she smiles back, ducking her head back down to whisper to Roland. “He used to be so terrible at this game and I would  _ always _ win.”

“Did you tease him?” Roland mumbles into her shirt, curling himself closer to her. He’s collected a bit of her hair and twirls it between his fingers, his breath evening out slowly. 

“I did tease him,” she chuckles, scooting his body closer to her. Robin and Henry have started up another round, without Roland this time, and she’s secretly grateful for the moment she gets to sneak with her son, this time that helps build their family. “He was a sore sport about it, but we liked playing this game so much that he would practice all the time when I wasn’t home. Then one day he finally beat me, and he got so excited and started cheering and running all around the house congratulating himself.” 

“He’s silly,” Roland giggles. “I want to practice too, so I can beat Daddy and Henry.” 

She cards her fingers through his unruly hair, tamping it down some, only for his curls to spring right back up and bump against her chin. “How about we eat some dinner, and then you and I can play a few rounds together, against them? Maybe the two of us can win with both of our brains, how does that sound?” 

He nods frantically and hops off of her lap, reaching out to tug on her hand. “Come on, we have to go get dinner set up now. The faster we eat, the more time after dinner that we have to play!” 

Robin and Henry finish up their race and meet them in the kitchen, both boys quickly scarfing down their food before rushing back into the living room twenty minutes later. She and Robin take their time though, finishing up a glass of wine each, talking about the stress he’s been through at work. She can hear Henry helping Roland, explaining the buttons on the controls and some of the strategies he’s taken to using in the past few hours to help him with the game, and it warms her heart listening to her boys together. 

“I still can’t believe they found it,” he laughs, reaching across the dining room table, his fingers tangling with hers. 

“Maybe this will get them working together a bit more than they have been,” she smiles, squeezing her palm to his. “I don’t like seeing them fight all the time.” 

“They’re brothers. When I was younger, John and I used to get into fist fights constantly. It’s been an adjustment since they’ve been here. We don’t know what they went through without us, and until they’re ready to talk about that I don’t think we’re going to get much out of them. This is all just… new. It’s like when they first came home and both boys were so scared and hesitant to be themselves.” 

“Henry kept waking up with those nightmares that we’d send him back.” 

“Exactly,” Robin tells her, squeezing her hand. “This is them coming out of their shells. It’s not permanent. They won’t always fight. Like right now, they’re fine. We know that, you can hear them laughing.” 

She can, too. She hears both of their son’s laughter echoing through the house, the tell-tale sounds of the game coming from the television, and she stands up, takes Robin’s hand more securely in hers and tugs him out of his seat. When he stands he tugs her close and steals a kiss from her, a slow, lingering kiss that has her clutching his shoulder, her thumb tracing circles against his collarbone. 

They stay up entirely too late playing Mario Kart. Regina keeps playing with Roland, guiding his movements to help him win a couple rounds against his competitive dad and brother. Roland tells her to take over around 9 though and before the next round is over, he’s sound asleep in the space between her back and the couch, his dark hair covering his eyes. Henry’s the next to go around 9:30, dragging the pillows and a blanket from the loveseat and wrapping himself in his own cocoon on the floor, asleep within minutes. The game carries Regina and Robin late into the night though, laughing and bickering playfully until the moon is high in the sky. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you Aussi18 for all the chapter inspiration


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regina and Robin decide to start a family movie night. 
> 
> Inspired by @ankareeda’s adorable drawing! I hope you all enjoy! 
> 
> Written for Day 1 of IBOQ

It’s quite possibly her favorite night of the week. 

Robin had suggested it first, the idea that they needed something to claim as their own, a family activity that they could each look forward to every week. With the boys consistent arguing over their first summer together, the beginning of the school year looming over each of their heads, they need something to bring them back together. So one evening, while the boys are playing in the tree in their backyard, Robin suggests they start a weekly movie night. 

The rules are simple. They each get one night per month to pick whatever movie they want to watch, with no argument from anyone else in the family. Roland gets to pick first, with his being the youngest, and then they move up in age. Last week was their first time, and they had sat the boys down and explained how their new family time was going to work. 

_ “Now,” Regina began, kneeling down in front of the boys where they both sat on the couch. “You two have had quite a summer, and school starts in three weeks. I know that it’s been a long 7 months now that you boys have been here, and when you two started school in February, it was a little rough.”  _

_ “That place was boring,” Roland grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. “Do we have to go back?”  _

_ “You do,” Robin interjets, leaning over the top of the couch behind them, stroking down Roland’s curls. “School is important, and while we know that you two didn’t have to go as much before you ran away, you do now. It’s a good place, with great people that are going to help you and teach you things so you can grow up and be great men. It’s not meant to be something terrible.”  _

_ Henry tilts his head back and looks up at Robin, furrowing his brow. “But they make us wear shoes.”  _

_ “And socks!” Roland continues, the pout growing on his face. “Socks aren’t fun unless they have funny shapes on them.”  _

_ Regina smiles and pats them both on their knees before lifting Roland, climbing onto the couch. Henry shuffles himself closer and climbs half in her lap as well, and she wraps both of the boys up in a tight hug. “School will be just fine, you’ll see. You’ll make new friends, have all the best teachers, it’ll be great. But until then, your Dad and I have decided that we need to start setting some routines, and this will be the first one. Every Tuesday, we’re going to have a movie night.”  _

_ Henry and Roland both spin, their eyes wide. “Really? Can we build forts? I like blanket forts.” _

_ “Oh and we can watch fun movies!” Henry chimes in, shifting to look up at Robin. “There are a bunch’a movies downstairs that we can watch!”  _

Last week was their first movie night and they gave the boys everything they had promised. Henry and Robin set out to build an epic pillow fort in their living room, with enough space so that they couch swap to the couch if needed. While they were hard at work, she and Roland scoured through their movie selection before he ultimately decided that they should watch ‘Lilo and Stitch’. They then switched over to the kitchen and Roland bounced around her legs as she made popcorn and, at her son’s choice, pizza for dinner, all while he got them bottles of water and juice boxes. 

This week is a little different, with Roland’s insistence that he wants help Robin. The two of them get started a little earlier on their fort, while Regina pulls Henry into the kitchen with her. Since he chose the movie, he also got to decide their dinner, and he had quietly asked her if they could have grilled cheese. It still amazes her now, the contrast between the two boys. They still haven’t been able to find a lot of information about their upbringing, and while Roland lets some information slip when he’s chatting away, Henry is much more reserved. He sticks by her side most of the time, threads his fingers into her belt loop when they’re out in public, carefully watching people as the pass. Roland is much more outgoing, talking to everyone, petting every dog they see and chatting up any shop owner that is willing to listen to him. 

She cherishes these little moments with Henry though, when he has this shy smile on his face, blushing as she pours over him with praise. “You ready for school?” she asks, spreading butter over the bread before dropping it into the pan. 

“Sorta,” he grumbles, carefully cutting up the cheese. “It’s hard. There’s a lot of numbers. Reading is easy, but I don’t like math. Can’t I just read books instead of school?” 

“Oh sweetie,” she whispers, flipping the first sandwich, then wrapping an arm around his shoulder and giving him a squeeze. “If it were that easy I’d absolutely let you just read books all the time. But you need to learn math, and science. Even if they’re tough.” 

He nods, helping her set up the next sandwich in the pan. “If I have trouble this year, will you help me? Emma and Lily… they never helped me. They told me I was stupid, that I couldn’t add the numbers right cause I was dumb.” 

It stops her, her eyes dropping down to look at him. 

Those… those  _ bastards.  _

She drops to a knee and wraps him up in the tightest hug she can, cupping the back of his head when he buries his head into her shoulder and sniffles. “You listen to me, Henry Locksley, you are the furthest thing from dumb, or stupid. You are brilliant, and so,  _ so  _ kind. You have a heart of gold, and you’re so good at reading and writing. You’re incredibly creative, and the best big brother and son that anyone could hope for. I know what they said hurt, and I’m so sorry you had to listen to that. You may remember it, but I promise you my sweet prince, you are my son, and I love you, and I’ll help you try and forget any bad things they said to you.” 

Henry sniffles again, his fingers curled against her arm, tangling up in the sleeve of her shirt. “You’re a good mom,” he whispers, hugging her tightly. 

They stay like that for another moment before she heard Roland’s feet against the hardwood, his voice booming through the home as he asks if their grilled cheeses are finished. Henry pulls away, quickly wiping the extra tears from his eyes, and she turns just in time for Roland to barrel into her side. 

“Did you make the cheese?” He asks animatedly, bouncing on his toes. 

“It’s grilling as we speak,” she laughs, standing with him on her hip. “Did you two make your fort?” 

“Yeah! Dad said that it’s almost done, and he’s hungry. He said so.” 

“He did now, is that so?” She asks, though she can feel Roland’s growling stomach against her side. “Dad’s the hungry one?” 

Roland ducks his head into her shoulder sheepishly, a fit of giggles bursting from him. “Maybe I’m a little hungry too.” 

“Me too, Roland,” Henry chimes in, slipping out of his funk. He’s busy getting the drinks while Regina plates up their food, and they head out into the living room, a copy of ‘Ant-Man And The Wasp’ tucked safely under Henry’s arm. 

They’re barely an hour into the movie when Roland climbs out of his own little pillow fort and up onto the couch, his head resting contentedly against Robin’s leg. Robin’s settled next to her, his arm wrapped around her shoulders as Regina rests against his chest, her head pillowed on his shoulder. She had drug the throw off of the back of the couch and fixed it over her legs, strategically setting up the blankets so that there’s a pile by Henry’s head for when he gets tired. 

He’s not tired though, not in the slightest. His eyes haven’t left the television since the movie started, glued to the screen as he aimlessly grabs handfuls of popcorn and shoves them into his mouth. There’s popcorn stuck to him, a piece in his hair, some clinging to his sweater. He’s so excited though that she can’t be bothered to stop his trance, laughing when he turns around and taps her leg as Ant-Man grows in the bay. 

Roland though, is sound asleep. He slipped off the couch at one point and collected his blanket before snuggling back up against Robin, his little foot sticking out from beneath the soft fleece blanket covering him, muffling the sound of his light snores. He’s just a hard sleeper and she’s grateful when the cars crash together on the screen, and her youngest doesn’t even budge. 

She reaches down and scratches her fingers lightly over Henry’s scalp, smiling down at him when he tilts his head back and grins up at her. “I like movie night.” 

“Me too, darling.”

And she truly does. It’s nights like this that she lives for, the ones where they’re all curled up together, especially with school beginning soon. It feels as if time has flown by since the day they brought Henry and Roland home, and she wants to pause time in moments like this, where they are a normal family, not one burdened by scars or anxiety attacks. She craves these moments, loves them, just as she knows Robin does, and when he squeezes her shoulder she turns her head and looks up at him, sighing softly as he presses a chaste kiss to her lips. She can feel him smile softly against her, and she knows he’s thinking the same thing, that they’re both appreciating the gift that this beautiful family has given them.


	14. Chapter 14

It’s their last Friday of summer, and the boys were invited to a sleepover at Grace’s house. She’s the same age as Henry, and Jefferson, her father, had wanted to throw a pool party for the neighborhood kids before they all went back to school, which Regina and Robin had quickly agreed to. 

They love their kids, they truly do, but after an entire summer with them where they were barely able to steal a handful of hushed moments together, their lives filled with quiet, sneaky sex while the boys were asleep or outside, Regina is craving the alone time with her husband, when they can be fully naked and pressed against one another and  _ loud.  _

She gets Robin to take the kids to the party, giving herself enough time so that she can slip into something better than her comfortable shorts and a hoodie. 

Regina rushes around the house while he’s gone, flipping the lights low, setting up a few candles in their bedroom and downstairs, turning on music to play softly through the speakers on their dresser. She makes her way into their closet and digs through her drawer, pulling out a green number that she’d bought on a girl’s day with Mal. Lingerie wasn’t her favorite thing to buy, and even though Robin loved when she got dressed up for him, worshiped her body as he peeled off whatever scrap of lace covered her, she still had that little bout of self-consciousness that wormed its way into her brain when she tries to look sexy. 

The scars aren’t as rough anymore, slowly fading with each passing year, and Robin loves her, every part of her, but it still eats at the back of her mind. 

She pads across their bedroom and into the bathroom, strips out of her comfy clothes and pulls on the underwear. The bra is a forest green, the lace soft against the swell of her breast and wrapping around her back. The thin, tight straps wrap over her shoulders and cross over her chest, and as she clasps the back and looks at herself in the mirror, she bites her lip and grins. She pulls the panties on next and turns, checking out the curve of her own ass covered in the scrap of lace that matches the bra. The faded red of her scars stands out beneath the green but she takes a deep breath and reaches up, undoing her hair from the hair tie, letting it cascade down her back in black waves. She tousles it a bit and runs her hands over her sides, checking herself, when she hears the front door open and close. 

“Darling, I—” he stops, and she can hear him drop his keys on the table where she’d lit the first candle. “Oh thank god,  _ please _ tell me you’re already naked,” she hears and she laughs at the sound of his feet pounding against the hardwood as he practically runs up the steps. 

Regina steps out of the bathroom as he comes through their door, and the desperate groan he lets out at the sight of her reminds her how worth it this all is. 

“Bloody hell, darling, where have you been hiding that?” 

“It’s from that day Mal and I went shopping, when you took the kids to that baseball game,” she grins, looking down at herself. “You like?” 

Robin strides across their bedroom floor and stops in front of her, reaching his hands out, hovering them over her hips before he brushes his fingertips across her smooth skin. “You look incredible,” he breathes out, tugging her body flush to his. “Absolutely  _ brilliant.”  _ Robin leans in and kisses her slowly, his lips brushing lightly over hers, pressing his forehead to hers so he can look down at her body. “I can’t believe you hid this from me.” 

“Haven’t had much of a use for it this summer,” she whispers, her hand coming up to cup his cheek, leaning in to draw her lips over his jaw. “But we have all night.” She kisses up his jaw and her lips trail over the sensitive skin beneath his ear, her hands caressing down his chest, dragging the hem of his shirt up. “It’s not fair that you’re the only one fully clothed right now though.” 

She draws his shirt up and over his head, and before she can even think further than that, his lips are on hers, hands cupping her jaw. His tongue slips between her lips and she groans at the contact, her arm wrapping around his broad shoulders, the fingers of her other hand tangling into his belt loop. He’s pushing her back as she tugs him closer to her, his warm chest pressed against her bare skin, the scent of the natural forest that radiates off of him surrounding her. 

When her thighs bump the edge of their bed she turns them and breaks the kiss, a devilish grin spreading across her face when she pushes on his shoulder and he sits back on their bed hard, the creak of their boxspring echoing around them. 

“What’re you—” he asks, his eyes raking over her body as she takes one step back and runs her hands up her chest, coming up to draw her hair off of her neck and hold it messily above her head. She swirls her hips, watching him as he watches her so intensely she can feel it in her heart— smirking as his hands twitch against the sheets, listening as his breath hitches when she turns and bares her ass to him. The music is turned low so she struts across the room, turning it up and spinning back to him. 

Robin’s gripping the sheets, holding himself back from practically lunging toward her,  like he wants nothing more than to reach out and touch her, holding back each instinct he has to give her a chance to play. She cards her fingers through her hair, walking back over toward him slowly, her hips swaying with each step. “Like what you see?” she asks when she gets close enough to press her palm to his bare chest, tracing one finger down his abs toward the waistband of his pants. 

“I want you,” he growls, his voice rough and thick. It would be so simple to push him back, to climb up into his lap and grind her hips against him until she comes, but she has other plans to the start of their long evening together. 

Robin leans back and spreads his legs, and Regina steps into the v of his thighs, her hands quickly undoing the button of his jeans. “Lift,” she commands, patting at his hip, pushing his pants down so he’s clad only in his boxers. She drops down to her knees and pulls his pants off him completely, staring up at him from where she sits. Her eyes flash down to his growing erection and she darts her tongue out to lick her lips, palming his legs and dragging her nails down the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. She bites her bottom lip and looks up at him when he hisses and his hand comes up to stroke the side of her neck, his thumb circling against her smooth skin before he rests it on her shoulder. 

“Regina,” he lets out, his voice that low whisper that drives her insane, “you should come back up here darling.” His hand twitches against her shoulder and she grins, laughing at what little self-control he has as she palms him, then slowly wraps her hand around his erection. 

She kneels up a little more and runs her left hand back up his leg before drawing her nails lightly over his skin, as her right works him through his underwear, her thumb tracing circles over the tip of his cock. “Where’s the fun in that?” She asks, pressing a kiss to his lower stomach. “I  _ love  _ the view from right here.” 

Robin groans as she darts her tongue out and traces the lines of his abs, dotting him with kisses while she slowly pulls her hand away from him and presses both palms to the top of his thighs. 

“You’re a minx, you know that?” he asks, bringing his hand up to brush a fallen strand of hair back from her face. “And a bloody gorgeous one at that.” 

“That’s why you married me,” Regina smirks, stretching up to kiss him. He cups her cheek and holds her to him, his lips rough against hers. She runs her teeth over his bottom lip, nips at it and then soothes over it with her tongue, and he takes the opportunity to wrap his other arm around her and slip his hand beneath her panties, gripping her smooth ass, and tugging her to her feet. 

Regina moves into the space between his legs to stand over him. His hands are smoothing over the back of her thighs, fingers gripping at the taut muscles in the backs of her legs, pulling a moan from deep in her throat. She opens up and kisses him harder, her hands carding through his hair, tugging at the short strands while she tilts her head and pulls everything she can from their kiss. 

Robin’s fingers tease their way up the backs of her legs, his fingertips dipping beneath the lace edge of her underwear, teasing at the curve of her ass. She waits, lets him inch up higher and higher, until his hands are full, surrounding her, massaging her rear, when she pulls away completely. 

He drops his head back, groaning at the loss of her, and his eyes get much darker, his erection now straining in his boxers. “Come back over here.”

Regina shakes her head and smirks, stepping back from him, bringing her hands up the curves of her body, dragging one of the straps from her bra down. “I could,” she teases, taking one step toward him. “Or, you could watch.” 

She spins so her ass is facing him and swirls her hips to the heavy beat of the music coming through the speakers, drawing her bra strap tantalizingly slow down her arm. She mirrors the other strap and looks over her shoulder at him. 

He looks positively hungry, his eyes devouring her every move as she leaves her bra and draws her hands down her hips, teasingly tracing the edge of her panties. His eyes have fallen to her ass and she can just see how badly he wants her, knows that had she not started this, he’d have pinned her down on their bed and ravished her by now. 

“Take them off,” he growls, and she licks her lips and starts to peel the dark green scrap of lace and silk off of her body. 

“Not quite yet,” she tells him, pulling them back up to their rightful spot before turning back around and stepping back up to him. Regina stands back between the v of his legs, her hair falling into her face as she looks down, stealing a kiss from him. “No touching,” she whispers,  reaching behind her body to unclip her bra. She peels it off and drops it down on the floor next to them, reaching out to run her hands over his warm chest, teasing her nails over him.

Robin’s staring right at her chest now, his face so close, his warm breath tickling her nipples. “You’re evil, darling. Brilliant and beautiful, but  _ god _ you’re evil. I need you, I need to touch you, need to feel you.” 

“You will,” she leans in, kissing him, her breasts brushing against his chest, “All in good time.” She traces her lips over the sharp cut of his jaw, dotting kisses against his skin, nipping at his neck. “But it’s my turn first.” 

She turns between his legs and nestles her ass right against his hard erection, swirling her hips, running her hands over his thighs. She uses her palms to spread his legs a little further, backing up so her body is flush against his. She’s grinding her ass against him to the beat of the music, bringing her hands up-up-up so deliberately, feeling herself just as she knows he wants to do to her. She cups her breasts, teasing her own nipples, letting out a soft, barely there moan. Her head drops back and rests against his shoulder, and she listens as he lets out a groan. His hands are hovering over her hips, not touching her, just as she’d directed him, but it’s clear that he absolutely wants to. 

“Please,” he whispers into her ear, sucking in a breath. “That’s it darling, get yourself off on me. I want to feel you, feel how wet you are, feel that beautiful skin beneath my hands.” 

Oh  _ fuck  _ she should have expected he’d use his words if he couldn’t touch her. He knows what it does to her, the hot flush that runs over her skin, the want that pools low into her stomach when he whispers his desires, and she  _ especially  _ loves his thorough follow through. 

“Yes love, pinch your nipples, just like I would. Bring yourself up right to that brink and then let me take you over. Gods, you’re probably so wet right now. Let me touch you, let me run my hands down that gorgeous plane of your stomach, curl my fingers inside of you just how you like. Press them just right against you until you can’t even remember your own name. Maybe then I’ll drop down off of this bed and taste you. You taste so  _ good _ darling.” 

Fuck, oh fuck she can’t let him to this. Her resolve is crumbling and she can’t handle his words. She needs him like she needs air, and as he whispers all the ways he’s going to fuck her when she’s done, she loses all control and turns her head. 

She kisses him hard to shut him up, pinching her own nipples, driving her hips faster against him. His cock is hard between her cheeks and she’s not sure how long she can keep this up, how long she can tease him before it just becomes too much for even herself, before she snaps and fucks him senseless. 

She drags it out a few moments longer before pulling away from him, then quickly turns and straddles his hips. 

Her chest is right in line with his face now, her warm heat against the erection that’s straining against the fabric of his boxers. The song in the background has slowed, and she uses the rhythm to her advantage, dropping her hips low to his, grinding herself on him. It feels so good, the friction against her clit, the warmth from his own skin radiating against hers. She gasps and can’t help herself, dives forward and kisses him. Her lips are rough against his own, pulling a groan from somewhere deep. 

His hands are clenched into fists against her thighs, restraining himself from her just as she’d instructed, but she finally shakes her head in their kiss, cups his cheeks and breaks away, her lips brushing against his as she speaks. “Touch me,” she groans, and Robin murmurs an  _ ‘oh thank god’  _ before clutching her hips and pulling her flush against him. 

He tightens one of his arms around her waist and tugs her close to him, using his free hand to shift beneath him and pull her panties down and off of her. His hand comes up between her legs and he groans into her collarbone as he feels just how wet she is, circling his fingers over her clit. Her knees buckle and she leans into him, pressing her nose to his cheek and he pushes a finger inside of her. She gasps, bringing her hands up, wrapping them around his shoulders, needing to be as close to him as possible. 

“Oh god darling you’re so tight,” he groans, slipping another finger in. He pistons them in and out of her so slowly, drawing out each moan from her so painstakingly slowly that she wants to beg. She can’t beg, won’t let herself give into exactly what he wants but oh  _ god _ she wants to. 

“Rob—” she gasps as his thumb comes up and circles over her clit. His fingers move faster, curling up against her g-spot to the point that her legs start to tremble, her back arching as his head comes down and he sucks her nipple into his warm mouth. He nips at the sensitive peak, swirls his tongue over her flushed skin and she cries out as he pushes a third finger into her. The pressure is too much, so perfect and wonderful and she cups his cheeks and tilts his head up, kissing him hard. Her tongue brushes against his, she shudders and whines as he pulls his fingers from her, quickly circling them over her clit. She breaks the kiss and moans, burying her face into his shoulder, clutching her hands to his biceps. “I’m going to—” she chokes out, her words cut off when she lets out a deep moan. 

“Let me see you darling,” he tells her, circling his fingers faster over her. Her legs start to give out and he clutches his free arm around her, pinning her to his chest as she cries out her orgasm. He pushes his fingers back inside of her as she comes, pressing them in tight circles against her g-spot, making her whine as he prolongs her orgasm and pushes it into another. 

Regina collapses against him, her breath coming out in hard puffs against his neck. Robin tilts his head, coming down to suck hot kisses along the lines of his neck, nipping at his skin, soothing over the marks with her tongue, his hands drawing patterns over her back and hips as she comes down. Her skin is sweaty and she slowly unclutches her grip from his arms, bringing her hand down the chiseled plane of his chest to wrap her fingers around his hard, warm erection pressed against her belly. Her free hand comes up and she cups his neck, her thumb brushing over the line of his jaw as she tilts his head toward her, leaning in to kiss him. 

Robin kisses her back, falls back onto the bed and brings her down with him. She squeals, dropping down onto his chest and breaking their kiss with a laugh. “You’re adorable,” she teases, running her hand up his bare chest, curling it around his neck. Her thumb traces a circle against his jaw and she leans in, dropping a kiss to his collarbone, her left hand wrapped firmly around him. She twists her wrist and runs her thumb over the head of his erection, smoothing the drip of precum into her palm, working her hand back down, over and over. 

Regina throws her leg over his and leans up, straddling his hips, positioning him at her entrance before sinking down slowly, taking him inside of her. “Love you,” she sighs, leaning down and nipping at the smooth skin of his chest, pressing kisses to the red mark she leaves. 

His hands come up and grasp at her hips, guiding her movements as Regina takes him inside of her. 

“Fuck, love, you feel so good,” he groans. She sits up, plants her hands on his chest and looks down, her dark waves cascading down in front of her face. She eyes him once when she reaches a hand up to brush her hair out of the way, watches and clenches at the sight of him, flushed and hot, watching where they’re joined as he disappears inside of her. 

“You like that?” she whispers, lifting up onto her knees just so only the tip of him is inside of her before sinking back down, letting out a choked moan when he fills her. 

“Oh fuck yes darling,” he tells her. Robin’s hands leave her hips and he runs his palm up her toned stomach, over each scar and rough patch before covering her breast with his hand. He tweaks at her nipple and she gasps, roughly planting her hand back down against his chest to catch herself as a moan chokes out. Her breath shudders when he lifts his legs and bends his knees behind her, thrusting his hips up, taking her in a much harder pace than she’d set. 

“Oh  _ yes,  _ shit babe tha— that’s it,” she cries, swirling her hips against his as he pistons up into her. She leans back against his thighs, drawing her hands up and over her skin, collecting the hair from where it’s sticking to her shoulders to hold it above her head. 

“Stunning,” Robin sighs, and she grins down at him as he watches her. She feels so much as he takes her in, maps his hands over the curves of her body, presses his thumbs into the taunt swirls of her skin and makes her feel so  _ loved _ that she wants to give him everything. 

She clenches around him and runs her hand down her front, her two fingers finding her clit and moving tight, slow circles over the swollen bundle of nerves. 

“I’m— I need,” she gasps, her hips losing their rhythm as he grips her sides and pulls her down. The angle hits differently and when she falls against his chest, he presses tightly into her she presses her palms to his shoulders and cries out, her eyes fluttering closed. 

“Come for me, love,” he whispers into her skin. “I’m so close, just need you to come one more time, let yourself go.” 

One of his hands comes between them and Regina feels his fingers against her clit as he fucks her. Her body starts to tremble and within seconds she lets go, her body tensing up, her hands curling over his shoulders as he keeps thrusting, his own release following hers moments later. His hands grip against her hips and he groans into her ear, his hips slowing as they both start to come down from their high and he slips out of her. Regina stretches up and grips his jaw, guiding his chin until they’re kissing one another, her tongue slick against his own, pulling everything that she can from him. They trade slow, deep, lazy kisses until he breaks it, his hands coming up to cup her cheeks, drawing her face to his before she can duck and hide against his chest as she always does. 

“You’re beautiful,” Robin whispers, shifting them so she’s tucked safely against his chest. The sweat is drying against their skin and she pushes out the thought of all of the household chores she could be doing in a child-free home, instead lets her eyes flutter closed, breathes him in and settles against his chest. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Roland wearing a bowtie

She’d heard rumors from her friends that children before a holiday were complete chaos, but having two rambunctious boys in the house who wanted nothing more than for Santa to come down the chimney and deliver them their presents was more than they could handle on most days. Even Henry, who has always been so calm and reserved, has been more excited, infatuated with the Christmas lights and the movies. Roland’s always been more hyper, a fact that is starting to worry her, and one they’re going to have to address soon, but the holiday season has him practically vibrating with excitement every day.

It had made it entirely worse though that holiday picture day at school had arrived, the week before Christmas break, and the boys were antsy for their formal photos. She was trying desperately to get them to stay calm, to get dressed in the morning and  _ not  _ get anything on their shirts or nice dress pants before they got to school, but the more time they had, the more futile her hopes were becoming. Robin was on a work trip, spending the next three days back in Mist Haven running a conference on the soil levels in Storybrooke so Regina was on her own. 

“Mom!” Henry calls out, his feet slamming against the hardwood down the hall toward their room. “Roland took my pants!” 

“Did not!” he shouts, running past them. “They’re mine!” 

Both boys shove past one another into the room, haphazardly dressed. Roland’s shirt is half tucked in, one of Robin’s ties draped over his neck. He’s wearing one of his dress shoes, the other foot covered in one of his reindeer socks, and he’s got on pants that are at least three sizes too big, drooping off of his hips and bunched up at his ankles. His curly hair is disheveled, dried in a flat mess against one side of his head, from where he’d fallen asleep on it the night before. Henry looks a little more put together, though not by much. He’s got both of his shoes on and his button up, but he’s still wearing his Harry Potter pajama pants and his hair is sticking straight up in the air. 

She can’t help but laugh at them both even though they’re still arguing with each other, yelling because Roland’s insisting that these are  _ his _ pants and that he is  _ ‘not taking them off, for nothing, nope, cause’ they’re his _ .’

 “Roland,” Regina chides, kneeling down in front of both of her boys. “Those are Henry’s.” 

His lip juts out in an obvious pout, trembling as he looks down at the much-too-big jeans on his legs. “But mine are  _ light _ blue, and Henry’s are  _ dark _ blue, and I like the dark blue one’s better!” 

Henry’s still behind his brother, grumbling about how he’s finally got his own pants and the two of them don’t need to share, but Regina eyes him carefully over Roland’s head, and he drops his head, whispering a quiet  _ ‘sorry Mom’.  _

“Roland,” she coaxes, reaching out to tug him closer to her. Her hand’s fall to the almost six-year-old’s hips, pushing the jeans off of him. He’s still wearing his Superman pajama pants, and when she looks back up with a smile, he lets out a sniffle and buries his head into her shoulder. 

“It’s so  _ hard _ being good for Christmas. Santa’s not gonna come.” 

She can’t help but laugh, wraps her arms around Roland and tugs him close to her chest in a tight hug. She can see Henry watching them, opens up her free arm and he immediately throws himself against her chest, practically crawling into her lap. 

The idea of Christmas and presents, and even holidays in general had confused the boys more than she thought it would. They each knew what the holidays were, but neither one could tell of a time that a holiday was memorable for them at all. Henry had spoke of their last Christmas before that fateful January that she and Robin were blessed to take them in as their own children— the boys had just run away from the home they’d been abandoned from, and were officially living on the streets. She and Robin were still adamant that the boys didn’t have to talk about their past, and though they would have to sooner or later— the topic of putting them both into therapy had come into conversation more often than not— but no one wanted to push the boys to talk about something they weren’t ready for. Regina knew very well that their home life before was rough— Roland had frequent nightmares that had him up, yelling and thrashing in his sleep. And while Henry was starting to open up, he was still her sweet, reserved little boy, still haunted by the memories of his life one year before. 

At the beginning of the month, as Roland had fallen asleep and Henry lie awake while Robin had read him a story, he opened up, explained that they had run away for their last time right before Christmas. They were living in a halfway house, and Emma and Lily had been missing for some time. The boys were alone, and that was when Henry had made the final decision that they needed to go. That maybe running away would be better than the life that they were living then. So, a week before Christmas, the boys had packed what little they had into their tattered backpacks and fled to the streets. Their Christmas had been spent on the cold streets of some town outside of Mist Haven, hiding in the snow behind a dumpster. Henry had waited for the trash to be thrown out and he stole the leftover food— bread and some turkey. He and Roland had split the food and they listened to the carolers wandering through the streets, singing Christmas songs. 

The Christmas before that, they had spent in another dingy house. Henry said his Dad had still been around then, but the most they’d ever gotten for the holiday was a single toy between each of them, that Emma and Lily had taken later on and sold. 

When Robin had come back into their bedroom later that evening he had cried, broke down with his head in his hands and shared their son’s heartbreaking story. They knew it would get better over time, that good birthdays and Christmasses would slowly start to outweigh the bad ones, but memories couldn’t be replaced, and it surely wasn’t going to happen overnight. She and Robin have vowed to make this one great, to go above and beyond in making sure that the boys first Christmas with their new family was as close to perfect as they could get and filled with all of the new traditions they could think of. 

“Even if you two aren’t getting along all the time, I’m sure that Santa’s still going to come on Christmas. But, we do need to listen, and be nice to one another,  _ all _ the time. Can you two try and do that for your Dad and I?” 

Henry mumbles a gruff  _ ‘yeah’  _ and Roland nods his head against her collarbone. “Do you think Santa’s mad at us?” Roland asks, his fingers gripping at the edge of her shirt. 

“No, of course not,” Regina smiles, nudging him back so that he’s looking at her. “Santa probably has brothers too. He knows it’s not possible to get along  _ all _ the time.” Roland snickers and nods, wiping the last of his tears from his cheeks. “Now,” she continues, scooting back to look at them both. “Let’s agree that Henry can have his pants back, and Roland, maybe we can search through your closet and see if we can find something you like a little more? And what’s this for?” She asks, toying with the edge of Robin’s tie that Roland has around his neck. 

“Dad wears ties when he has to go to his big meetin’s at work, and he’s got one on in the pictures from when you and him got married,” Roland says, his eyes focused down on the snowman pattern on the tie. “I wanted to look gooooood,” he drawls out, his dimples deep on his red cheeks.  

Henry giggles behind his brother, taking the pants that Roland’s finally let go of and running off into her bathroom to change. 

“This ties a little bit too big for you,” Regina tells him, carefully unknotting it and slipping it back over his head into her palms. “But, I have an idea for a good type of tie that you can wear. What’d you say we find something a little more kid sized?” 

.::.

They miss the bus after their morning debacle, so she takes the morning off from the office to walk the boys to school, let’s them swing by Granny’s so they can each pick out a snack for their lunchbox. Roland bounds into the restaurant first, the door swinging open in front of him. He’s immediately unzipping his winter coat and shouting for Granny, bouncing on the tips of his toes. “Granny! Look!” 

The older woman peers over the counter and even Granny can’t help the smile that spreads across her cheeks at the two of them. 

Henry’s in his dark jeans, wearing a blue button-down shirt on top. He didn’t opt for a tie but he does have on a red scarf, one that he’d also found in raiding Robin’s closet that morning. He looks so grown up, carrying himself like a little man, even at age 9. 

Roland, however, looks positively  _ adorable.  _ He had finally settled on a pair of black slacks that she’d found, wearing his maroon red button-down. His outfit is complete with a bowtie, decorated with little Christmas trees and snowmen, and a pair of black suspenders. 

“Oh goodness,” Granny gushes, coming around the counter to the center of the restaurant. “Let me get a good look at the two of you. You both look adorable.” 

Henry, her always shy boy, ducks his head and shoves his hands into his pockets. “Thank’s Granny,” he mumbles, while Roland hyperly runs around her legs. Regina snaps out a sharp, “Roland,” and he stops, spinning to look at her. “Sorry,” he whispers, sucking in a deep breath and standing up straight. 

“Granny!” He yells, pointing to his neck. “Mama found me a bow tie so I can look fancy, like Daddy does.” 

“Did she now?” 

Roland nods, and ducks his head. “Mama said I look handsome.” 

“You both do,” Regina smiles, tugging Henry’s hand to pull him up closer to his brother. She puts her free hand on Roland’s shoulder and he comes slinking back against her thighs, grinning up at her. Henry puts his head against her arm, his eyes sinking closed for a moment. 

Granny gets up and smiles at her, that smirk that Regina has recognized since she was a teen — the older woman’s proud of her. Proud of the family that she’s been blessed with, the progress she’s seen since that so seemingly fateful afternoon three years ago. This is the first Christmas she’s looked forward to in so long, one filled with the joy and happiness that’s advertised on Hallmark Cards and in those ridiculous commercials, the sappy families curled up around the Christmas tree, sipping eggnog and watching movies into the night. 

Granny takes both boys by the hand, lets them come behind the counter and pick out their pastries. Regina steals the moment, shoots a text to Robin filling him in on their morning, and just as she hits send, Roland is shouting her name, running up to her and waving around the muffin he’d gotten from Granny in a paper bag. He’s singing some song he’s made up, singing “time for school, time for school, it’s our picture day at school” as he skips around Regina’s feet. Henry comes up beside her a moment later, trying to shush his brother, but before she can react to either of them, Roland’s tagging Henry and they’re both rushing out the door, circling around one another in the snow.  

The two laugh their way merrily up the street, running around each other and shouting their way up the street, and though she knows they’re late, that she should stop them and push them toward their day, she takes the moment they have and strolls up the street, the snow falling peacefully around them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to Aussi18 for the adorable prompt! 
> 
> I am hoping to get back into this verse a bit more so please, if you have any prompt's you'd like to see, send them my way!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!


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